Chapter 1217: Chapter 802: Listen to the Wind’s Whisper
In the distance, the Corpse Mountain and tide sea rise and fall, endless with raven-black darkness.
Among the myriad creatures, a Void gate opens, light slowly flowing out from the gap between two people.
As the light weaves around, their shadows are slanted and elongated.
Baili An gently touches his lips, dazed, with her faint breath still lingering at the corners.
A delicate kiss like a dragonfly on water, her body carries a remote fragrance of cold orchid, and her deep eyes are like Water Jade in an ink pool.
For this untily kiss, Baili An untily lets out a light laugh.
He looks deeply at her: “Miss Jing, do you seem to have sothing to conceal?”
Su Jing’s calm gaze unconsciously avoids slightly, saying nothing.
Baili An lowers his arm and continues: “I don’t deny that at first, I did consider my forr life’s mories as the greatest goal of this life.
Whether going to Xianling City or coming to Xijian Sect, it was all in search of past mories.
We t in Xianling City, Miss Jing knew clearly that I was eager to seek mories but remained silent, pretending as if we’re strangers.
This shows that my past death is indeed tied to you.”
Su Jing’s face suddenly turns pale, her pupils quivering slightly, saying nothing.
Baili An’s gaze remains calm, without any resentnt due to lack of mory, only clarity remains.
“The past is irreversible, but the future may be pursued. On the road of mory seeking, the further I walk, the more I begin to understand why the Corpse Grinding Tribe set the iron rule ‘the departed cannot seek their forr life’s mories.’
I remain in Tianxi not because I’m fixated on the truth back then, but simply wanting a resolution.”
Listen to the wind’s whisper, quietly waiting for flowers to bloom.
In Chang Yuan, the heart is like trees and flowers, growing towards the sun.
Whether crumbling mountains or invoking the Sword Soul, Baili An’s goal remains clear and unwavering.
In nearly three years of entering the mortal world, he’s been constantly searching for past life mories and identity.
But now, at the mont closest to truth within reach, Baili An chooses another path.
Su Jing’s fingertips silently tighten a bit, dazedly staring at the youth before her, with a hint of blurred confusion deep in her clear pupils, as if ti inadvertently overlaps shown before her.
On the side of the mountain peak, tides flow, the youth in the flaming years who resolutely leaves.
After enduring the ordeal of sorrow, fragnted, thousands of wounds, sewn whole by ti with threads.
Yet sohow always able to treat her so unsparingly.
Su Jing doesn’t want him to recall the past, yet cannot stand his unperturbed deanor like the wind passing by without hearing old tales.
So distant…
This person clearly within reach, why even two hundred years ago or now, still remains distant and unreachable.
Having gone through that agonizing ordeal, she knows well in her heart.
Towards the person before her, words must have asure, deeds must have reserve.
Otherwise, gripping too tight would only result in blood in her palms, like sand slipping away.
Cannot be forced, cannot be greedy, between them, only seeking a eting without regret, past without remorse.
Gathering thousands, it’s better to have slender branches on oneself, should conform, gradually sche.
But even though she has countless reasons to persuade herself, she still can’t truly achieve a serene and carefree mind, going naturally with the flow.
Once moved by emotions, how to restrain desires?
Life and death divided by two lines once clearly told her: So people can be easily erased by ti, like dust…
Su Jing stands upright, black hair disheveled, thin lips tightened, she suddenly says: “If you must enter the valley, I will go with you.”
Baili An frowns and says: “Spirit Point Sword Palace, Ten Directions Annihilation, even the ancient barrier outside Chaotic Netherworld Valley may not withstand, so I invited your father to strengthen the barrier outside, if you follow into the valley…”
Su Jing’s dark brows suddenly severe: “So your plan of entering the valley is not intending to co out alive beneath the Sword Palace?!”
Baili An is montarily speechless.
Dianjian Palace, the pinnacle of Divine Skills in Heaven, highly destructive, if not so, why would Baili An suggest Sword Master Yu enter Chaotic Netherworld Valley to slay those three hundred thousand ghouls with the sword.
Once entering Chaotic Netherworld Valley, isolated from the world, extinguishing worldly dark evil spirits and demons, fearing nearly all facing nine deaths and one life, to be completely cleansed by Sword Master Yu’s astonishing sword.
What Su Jing says is indeed reasonable.
But having experienced death once, Baili An realizes life is precious, certainly not intending to squander senselessly at such a ti.
Facing Su Jing’s increasingly icy brows, Baili An looks up calmly and seriously: “I will not seek death.”
Clearly Su Jing doesn’t believe this, the Corpse Tide below the mountain is like a reverse waterfall, already climbing the mountain.
In Baili An’s hand, the tail of the Jade Flute, the Ghost Tears Pearl flickers endlessly.
The blood-colored glow like thin lines densely spreads between the Jade flute’s body, resembling a blood-crying ice crack gradually stretching into a web.
Clearly the ghost control power is close to reaching its limit.
Baili An glances at her, as if seeing through her thoughts:
“Give up, Moqi Hall distinguishes breath, Palace Master rules will not allow you to enter Chaotic Netherworld Valley.”
In the distant earth veins, that cold and evil aura again diffuses widely.
A ghoul that climbed the peak suddenly breaks through its body’s invisible shackles, ten fingers entwining green fire Yin Fla, roaring and directly attacking Baili An.
Baili An unhurriedly prepares to play the flute again, but an unexpected blaze of Red Lotus Karma Fire swiftly passes through his sight.
The Karma Fire pierces through the ghoul’s heart, leaving a fist-sized fla hole in its chest.
In an instant, the fla hole spreads like hot oil across its body, engulfing it entirely, burning it into nothingness, without turning again into black crows.
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