Chapter 75

A formless barrier inside Luo Han’s mind suddenly shattered. The heart demon faded, and her state of mind and cultivation limits surged to a new level. She had thought only immortals or devils needed to face their inner demons, never expecting she would have to, too.
But a heart demon wasn’t a monster, nor a cultivation boundary. It was the old self. Everyone must confront it. Only by overcoming the past self could one transform, become someone new.
Luo Han steadied herself, tucked away the bamboo cup, and continued forward. The ring on her finger still radiated a gentle chill—just like its owner: reserved, calm, always behind her. No matter what challenge she faced, as long as she looked back and asked, Ling Qingxiao would always know the answer.
Once again, like she had done so many times before, Luo Han quietly asked: “Ling Qingxiao, what should I do next?”
Her voice drifted into the Void. No answer came—not that she expected one. Sighing, she tucked the ring away and prepared to keep moving.
She didn’t know where she was headed. But as long as she was alive, she would walk forward.
But this time, just as she lifted her foot, her bracelet suddenly lit up. Surprised, she raised her hand—it was the birthday gift she hadn’t used in ages.
The bracelet gave off a soft light—as if pointing her toward a direction.
Luo Han stood frozen for a long time, then hesitantly asked, “Dad? Mom?”
The bracelet blinked twice, quickly, then went still—like it was urging her to hurry up.
A strange and wondrous feeling welled up in her chest. She had only half-jokingly asked a question...and somehow, she had received an answer.
Without hesitation, Luo Han set off in the direction her parents indicated. The bracelet didn’t glow often—only when she had walked far and begun to lose her sense of orientation. Then, it would flash again, giving her a new heading.
Thus began her journey—balancing self-preservation with steady progress through the Void. Eventually, she realized her pace was too slow and started taming Void beasts to use as mounts. She no longer hunted space beasts deliberately, but if one attacked her, she didn’t hold back. Over time, she learned how to cleanly extract the beasts’ cores and distinguish between species. Her storage ring gradually filled with unused inner cores she was too lazy to sort.
Then, on an ordinary day, no different from any of the countless before it, Luo Han—without warning—spotted someone familiar beyond the curtain of stardust.
A figure with a human upper body and serpent lower body stood quietly amidst the misty shadows, behind her a luminous white nebula.
It was Nuwa.
-
Luo Han awoke in a clear pool of spring water. Lifting her head, she saw a lush bodhi tree growing by the water’s edge.
She inhaled deeply. After so long in the Void, she had nearly forgotten what it felt like to breathe in pure spiritual energy. With every breath, it flowed into her organs and limbs, cleansing and nourishing her body. No wonder people here were so refined—taller, fairer, more graceful than most.
A few days ago, as she followed her parents’ guidance, dazed and half-conscious, she had crossed into the boundary of a cultivation-world star domain. That was when Nuwa sensed her presence. Recognizing who she was, Nuwa came to investigate and brought her back.
A stroke of great fortune. If Luo Han had been left to walk on her own, she might have taken several more months to find the way.
In the Void, time had no meaning. But based on her own rough estimations, she had wandered for nearly a year. Her early progress had been agonizingly slow—only once she started riding Void beasts did her speed improve. Thankfully, the time rift hadn’t thrown her too far. Even with her parents’ guidance, had she landed farther away, she might never have made it back.
Still, even at this “close” range, if it weren’t for the bracelet and her parents’ help, she wouldn’t have known which nebula led home—even if she’d been standing right beside it.
It had taken a miracle—and family.
After Nuwa brought Luo Han back, both her mind and body were completely exhausted. Nuwa didn’t say much—she simply guided her to the pool to rest. Luo Han didn’t know what kind of pool this was, but as soon as she stepped in, her body and spirit immediately relaxed, as if something cool and cleansing was washing over her entire being. After holding herself together for so long, the sudden sense of relief overwhelmed her—and she quickly fell asleep.
She slept deeply and peacefully. In her dreams, blue and green specks of light danced together. She felt as though she was floating in the ocean—or perhaps back inside her mother’s womb—safe, warm, and serene.
When she woke, the lingering emotions of the dream still clung to her like morning mist. Thanks to that dream, Luo Han’s mood was unusually calm and content. She changed into fresh clothes and sat at the edge of the pool, tidying her hair. Using the water’s surface as a mirror, she carefully combed her hair—until something behind her caught her eye.
The bodhi tree.
It looked...familiar.
Luo Han couldn’t help turning to get a better look. After studying the tree closely, she tentatively called out, “Bodhi tree?”
Her voice rippled in the air, soft as a breeze. All was quiet—until a distant, ethereal voice responded behind her:
“It has yet to gain sentience. It cannot answer your question.”
Startled, Luo Han quickly gathered her hair behind her back and stood to greet the approaching figure. “Earth Empress.”
Although Nuwa was also a deity, her status far surpassed that of any other god. All gods referred to her with reverent titles, and “Earth Empress” was the most respectful of them all. Luo Han, being so new to all this, felt completely awkward—especially now, meeting Nuwa right after stepping out of the bath.
But Nuwa’s presence was gentle and approachable. With a calm smile, she asked, “Did the cleansing water help you recover?”
Cleansing water? Luo Han turned toward the pool she had awakened in, her expression full of astonishment.
Could it be...that cleansing water?
After Pangu split the heavens and earth, Nuwa had created all forms of life. The water she used during that creation was said to be cleansing water.
According to legend, when Nuwa molded humans from clay, the figures were lifeless until she sprinkled cleansing water upon them—infusing them with souls and spirits. That was how they came alive. From this, the saying “water is the source of life” was born.
Realization hit her like lightning. Luo Han had just bathed in that very water—and even slept in it.
She was so shocked that she began to stammer, “This...this was cleansing water? I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I even—slept in it...”
Nuwa simply smiled and shook her head. “It’s nothing to worry about. Cleansing water purifies both body and spirit—it strengthens your bones and cleanses your marrow. Feeling drowsy when immersed is perfectly natural. No need to fret. Now, tell me—how do you feel?”
Luo Han looked down at her hands. Her skin seemed even smoother and fairer than before. Her whole body felt light, agile—as if a single tap could send her floating into the sky. She replied truthfully, “I feel lighter, as though a heavy burden has been lifted.”
Nuwa nodded with approval. “As it should be. You wandered the Void for a long time and gathered much residual dust. On top of that, your previous cultivation methods were flawed, creating subtle cracks in your foundation. The cleansing water has now washed away all those impurities. Your bones and meridians are clear as crystal. Even the remnants of heart demons and inner toxins have been removed. Try sensing your cultivation—see how much more solid it has become.”
Luo Han immediately performed an internal scan. Sure enough, her spiritual energy was far more refined and smooth. The black blemishes she used to notice—caused by misguided techniques and excessive energy—were completely gone. Her spiritual foundation had solidified to an incredible degree. It wasn’t just improvement—it was a transformation.
Deeply moved, Luo Han bowed in gratitude. “Thank you, Earth Empress. You already granted me such great kindness, and now you’ve even given me access to something as precious as the cleansing water. I truly don’t know how I can ever repay you.”
Nuwa’s smile remained gentle. “It was a small matter. No need to concern yourself with repayment.”
Indeed, with Nuwa’s vast powers and exalted status, helping Luo Han was merely a flick of her sleeve. But to Luo Han, it was a debt of a lifetime. She understood she currently had nothing worthy to offer Nuwa—but she would remember this kindness and repay it in time.
They were currently on a cliff. Beside it stood the ancient bodhi tree, and the pool of water shimmered with ageless clarity. Judging by the landscape, the tree, and the rock formations, this place was ancient beyond reckoning.
Nuwa’s serpent tail gently swayed as she began gliding toward the edge of the cliff. Even when she reached it, she didn’t stop.
Luo Han’s breath caught—she was about to warn Nuwa of the drop, but then she saw Nuwa calmly drifting in the air, perfectly stable. Luo Han swallowed her words and followed.
Nuwa’s long robe trailed behind her as her snake tail moved with slow grace. Luo Han trailed behind at a respectful distance, then stepped off the cliff edge as Nuwa had done.
The moment her foot left the ground, a ripple formed in the air—as though she had stepped onto water. Soft, formless, yet capable of holding her weight.
She took another few steps. Circular ripples spread from her feet, gradually overlapping with Nuwa’s, weaving a delicate pattern across the invisible surface. It was a strange and beautiful feeling. Luo Han couldn’t help but glance down.
The “water” beneath her was like a massive mirror. Beneath its surface, she saw faint glimpses of various scenes from the Six Realms—hazy, like moonlight on mist, illusions within illusions.
The images shifted rapidly—one moment, a newborn child entering the world; the next, a yellow bird carrying a jade ring in its beak. Then the scene turned to the war-torn battlefields between the immortals and demons, scorched and lifeless.
Luo Han sighed. “You brought me here to show me this—what is it you wish me to do?”
Nuwa’s voice echoed, distant and serene. “I haven’t shown you anything.”
Luo Han blinked.
Nuwa continued, “The Mirror Platform has no form, no color, no voice, no shape. Whatever is in your heart—that is what you see.”
Nuwa came to a halt. Around her, the white mist thickened, partially obscuring her gentle and divine face, giving her an otherworldly aura. She said softly:
“You should not be asking me what you saw. You should be asking yourself—why you saw it.”
With her question laid bare, Luo Han didn’t hide anymore. “Earth Empress...if you have something like the Mirror Platform, a tool that lets you see every corner of the Six Realms, then you must care deeply about all living beings. But if that’s the case, why don’t you stop the war between the immortals and demons? So many have already died—directly or indirectly—because of it. If your heart aches for the suffering, why won’t you intervene?”
With Nuwa’s prestige, if she were to step in and stop it, the gods on both sides—no matter how unwilling—would not dare cross the line. This war should have ended long ago.
When Luo Han brought it up, a faint ripple of emotion finally appeared on Nuwa’s usually serene face. Only in such moments did the lofty, detached divine presence around her fade slightly, revealing a hint of genuine humanity. “Things have come to such a state that my strength alone can no longer stop it,” she said quietly. “If I do nothing, they accuse me of favoritism. But if I take action, the divine realm would fall apart entirely.”
She let out a long sigh. “For the sake of the gods’ future, all I can do is endure...and wait for them to resolve it on their own.”
Her voice drifted through the white mist, vast and light as wind. The ripples on the mirror-like water spread outward, growing weaker and weaker—until they finally stilled.
Luo Han stood in silence for a long time. Then, in a soft voice, she asked, “But...what if the gods have no future at all?”
In the world she came from, the gods had fallen. The divine realm was closed. High or low, from the heavens to the underworld—no sign of divinity remained. The gods, who had once waged war for selfish reasons, were ultimately destroyed by that same war.
The ancient war marked a watershed moment. Before it, all history belonged to the gods. But after it, the leaders of the immortals, demons, and beasts rose to the stage, while the gods retreated into obscurity—moving from center to shadow, surviving only in faith and legend. Over time, even the myths were forgotten by new generations. And thus, the gods truly vanished.
That war was both the gods’ final brilliance...and their twilight.
The Mirror Platform remained silent. The mist grew thicker. Before long, Luo Han couldn’t even see clearly.
She rubbed her eyes, but when she lowered her hands, Nuwa was gone.
Startled, Luo Han called out, “Earth Empress?”
The place where Nuwa had stood was now empty, with only faint ripples left behind.
She called again—twice—but received no answer. Helpless, Luo Han finally bowed and said, “If I offended you, I apologize. May I ask...what should I do now?”
Her voice echoed into the fog, scattering in layers. Just when she thought there would be no reply, a vast, boundless voice came from the depths of the mist:
“Go now. They’ve been looking for you for many years. At first, many came asking after you. Over time, fewer and fewer. Now, only one remains. He asks me every day where you’ve gone.”
Luo Han stood frozen. That person...She hadn’t even finished the thought when her vision suddenly blurred. A powerful sensation of weightlessness surged beneath her feet.
When she regained her footing, the Mirror Platform, the bodhi tree, and the cleansing pool were all gone. In every direction, there were only vast mountains and untamed forest.
Where was this?
Luo Han turned in a circle, trying to get her bearings. Finally, she found a direction and flew down the mountain. After walking for some time, she finally saw an elderly man leading a yellow ox along a narrow mountain trail.
Delighted, Luo Han rushed over. “Excuse me, sir! I’m new here and was wondering if I could ask for directions?”
The old man was hard of hearing. It wasn’t until she came very close that he finally heard her: “Huh? What deer?”
“Not deer,” Luo Han said quickly, gesturing as she spoke. “I want to ask for directions. Could you tell me where I am? I’m looking for Xiangshi.”
The old man’s cloudy eyes squinted at her for a long while—then suddenly lit up in excitement. “You’re Goddess Luo Han?”
She hadn’t expected to be recognized and was surprised—especially since she didn’t recall this man. Still, there was no time to wonder. She nodded. “Yes, that’s me. What place is this? I need to find Xiangshi.”
“Xiangshi?” The old man looked puzzled. “You’re in Xiangshi right now.”
Luo Han froze.
This was Xiangshi?
She had lived here for three years and was familiar with the nearby terrain. But this place didn’t look familiar at all.
“Where can I find Lord Rong Cheng?” she asked quickly.
The old man’s expression grew distant. He had to think a long while before answering, “When I was a child, Lord Rong Cheng stationed troops near our village. But he left a long time ago. People moved away over the years. Now, only us old folks are left.”
Luo Han’s breath caught. “When you were a child?”
“Yes,” the old man said, his expression soft with nostalgia. “You probably wouldn’t remember me, Goddess Luo Han. But I once saw you. I was playing with a bamboo dragonfly and nearly hit you with it. My parents gave me a good beating when I got home. That’s why I still remember you so clearly. I recognized you right away just now.”
Luo Han remembered that incident too—but hadn’t it just happened not long ago?
She took a closer look at the man before her. He was stooped and frail, with not a trace left of the mischievous boy she remembered.
Fighting back a growing sense of dread, Luo Han asked, “How long has it been since I disappeared?”
The old man tilted his head and thought hard before letting out a long sigh. “It’s been...five hundred years, I think.”
The world went black before her eyes. She nearly fainted.
Five hundred years?
In the Void, it had only felt like a year. The conversation with Nuwa had taken only minutes. How could five centuries have passed here?
She suddenly recalled what the bodhi tree had told her when she first traveled through time—different realms flowed at different rates. She had only spent eighteen years in the modern world, yet the immortal realm had already seen war and upheaval. When the realm could no longer hold on, the bodhi tree and others were forced to call her back early.
And now...it was the same.
The Void and the immortal realm had a time disparity. For her, it had been a year. Here, five hundred years had passed.
Five hundred winters and springs.
Enough time for mountains to shift, landscapes to change. Enough for a mischievous child to grow old and gray. Enough for someone...to forget she had ever existed.
Luo Han dared not even ask the next question.
She had told him she would just run up the mountain to drop something off, that she would be back right away.
She had promised him she’d always stay with him, to wait for her at the foot of the mountain.
But this time—she’d been gone for five hundred years.
There had been no message, no farewell, no sign of life or death.
But Luo Han finally summoned the courage to ask: “Ling Qingxiao...is he still around?”
“Marshal Ling?” The old man’s eyes lit up at the mention of that name, his tone even rising with enthusiasm. “Of course! He should be at the front lines, fighting the demons right now.”
Luo Han blurted out almost instantly, “Where?”
“In the south,” the old man replied, lifting a stiff hand to point. “But Goddess Luo Han, the south is in heavy conflict. I’ve heard even the Ten Demon Gods are there this time. Most folks have fled north—you really shouldn’t head south.”
Luo Han gave him a small, polite smile. “Thank you for the warning. I’ll keep that in mind.”
She appreciated his kindness, but she knew—without a doubt—she would go.
After asking where the old man lived, she transported him home in an instant. Then she checked her equipment and flew straight toward the south.
Though Luo Han had only spent a year in the Void Realm, because she had been exposed to the vacuum of space without spiritual protection, her physical recovery had been slow—but it had also tempered her body to an incredible degree. The greatest gain, however, was her grasp of the laws.
By absorbing ambient laws from the Void and hunting spatial beasts, Luo Han’s understanding of law-based power had skyrocketed—what she’d achieved in one year rivaled thousands of years of training in the Immortal Realm.
After Nuwa discovered her and she soaked in the cleansing waters, her body was purged of impurities again. Both physically and spiritually, she had undergone a full transformation. Her strength now was nothing like it had been when she disappeared.
This improvement showed in every way—including her speed. Her flight speed had multiplied several times over, though her mind was still used to her previous pace. She barely blinked and had already flown miles.
Almost without realizing it, she saw black smoke, the haze of battle fires, and scorched land below. The earth had turned a dark, ugly color—like blood soaked deep into the soil and then was burned by fire, leaving behind a dull, sticky blackness.
Luo Han landed in a relatively untouched spot to investigate. As she crouched down to inspect the soil, a sudden killing intent shot toward her from behind.
Her reflexes—honed by surviving the Void and countless battles—were razor sharp. Without moving her body, she activated spatial laws in her hand. A rift opened in the air, swallowing the incoming sword strike and redirecting it. Moments later, the blast struck a hill in the distance, gouging a deep pit into the mountain.
Rocks exploded in every direction. Luo Han winced. Who the hell was that? That attack would have destroyed even a divine body.
She quickly stood still and raised her voice: “I’m with the Immortal faction! We’re on the same side—don’t attack!”
There was no immediate response. She didn’t move. And then, finally, a voice replied, slow and steady: “Luo Han?”
That voice—Luo Han’s eyes widened in surprise. She spun around.
Ling Qingxiao stood atop a small hill not far away. He was clad in full silver armor, Jiuxiao in hand. The blade pulsed with invisible pressure; even at a distance, Luo Han could feel its overwhelming killing intent.
How many demons had this sword slain to accumulate such heavy resentment?
She was stunned by the weapon at first—then her eyes turned to Ling Qingxiao. His appearance hadn’t changed; he was still the same cold, beautiful man. But no one would mistake him for the same person she had known years ago.
When their eyes met, Luo Han’s heart skipped a beat. What time is this? Had she stumbled into a different timeline? Was this battlefield still the present?
Because the look in his eyes...was exactly the same as the one she remembered from the future Emperor of Heaven.
Luo Han’s expression shifted. She unconsciously stepped back.
A defensive stance. Ready to strike if needed.
Ling Qingxiao stared at her in silence. When he had first seen her silhouette, he had thought it was another demon illusion.
Over the years, demons had sent countless impersonators bearing her face. He had slain them all without hesitation. His actions had grown numb, his flickering hope dimming with every corpse he cut down.
So when he saw another familiar back today, his instinct was to strike first. He thought—this again.
But this time, his sword didn’t meet flesh. Instead, it vanished into a spatial void and reappeared far behind the woman—who stood unscathed and spoke: “We’re on the same side.”
Ling Qingxiao froze. He couldn’t believe it had finally happened. After waiting for so long, the moment she truly returned...even joy felt like a foreign, dangerous thing. Was this real?
And just as that flicker of happiness began to take root—he saw her turn and look at him.
Saw the wariness and tension flash in her eyes.
Ling Qingxiao’s heart plummeted. That joy withered before it could even bloom.
The two of them stood in silence, gazes locked. It was probably only a few seconds, but to Luo Han, it felt like eternity. In the distance, a soldier called out to Ling Qingxiao.
He smiled faintly and asked, “What’s wrong?”
That familiar tone held traces of the person she knew so well. Relief swept over Luo Han—he’s still him. He was still the young man she had pulled from the Abyss, who had spent so much time at her side.
She stepped forward and replied, “Nothing. I didn’t see clearly at first and mistook you for someone else.”
She thought the matter was settled. Ling Qingxiao was not one to pry—unless she spelled it out, he wouldn’t pursue it.
But this time, he slowly sheathed his sword and asked quietly, “Who?”
Luo Han choked on her words, caught completely off guard.
Perhaps it was because he noticed Luo Han’s expression, Ling Qingxiao smiled faintly and ended the topic himself: “It doesn’t matter. You’re back, and that’s enough.”