Chapter 119: Submission

“My purpose is the only way to break the soul-binding bone-fixing needle,” Shi Wenyu said with a smile.

Huang Rang did not question him. She believed him.

The soul-binding bone-fixing needle, for three thousand years, had tortured many people, and she understood it better than anyone else.

In the secret chamber on the belly of the Yuhu Immortal Sect mountain, she dreamed every night. How could she forget?

Over the years, among those who suffered this torture, only she had ever gained a glimmer of hope.

She saw a ray of light, like a straw for survival—something she could only tightly grasp.

Shi Wenyu observed her expression and said lightly, “Apart from submission, what else can you do?”

Huang Rang remained silent; she seemed to have nothing to say.

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—He fainted.

When Di Yiqiu woke up again, he was still lying on the bed in the dark room.

He thought that Li Lu and others, after fainting, had brought him back to the bed. But when he lowered his head, he suddenly found out!

—Although his hands were swollen and purple, there was no wound!

What’s going on?

Just now, when he opened the door, he clearly cut his hand!

Di Yiqiu struggled again to move towards the door.

At one point, he deliberately knocked over the teacup on the table.

However, when he once again forcefully opened the door, just as he took a step out, he suddenly fainted again.

When Di Yiqiu woke up again, he was still lying on the bed.

The teacup was neatly placed on the table.

Di Yiqiu understood.

His body would never heal. Because as soon as he took a step out of the door, time would reverse, going back to the first day he was sent to the dark room.

Time repeated itself, keeping him imprisoned here.

In the silence around him, he changed to the Nine-Curve Spirit Eye.

The image on the wall slowly unfolded. Huang Rang was breeding orchids. After marrying into the Yuhu Immortal Sect, she no longer worked in the fields. In her leisure time, she filled the entire Yuhu Immortal Sect with orchids.

Orchids bloomed all year round, withering only when it snowed.

At first, Di Yiqiu thought she was alleviating loneliness. Until later, when it was said that the most favorite flower of Xie Hongchen from the Yuhu Immortal Sect was the orchid, he suddenly realized this.

In the picture, the newly cultivated orchids by Huang Rang were planted, and Di Yiqiu stared at her, pondering how to break the situation.

Huang Rang was stunning, but the boundless beauty did not affect him.

Such scenes he had been watching for a hundred years, since the fifth year of the Chengyuan. In the ever-flowing day or night, when he forged, she was in his Nine-Curve Spirit Eye. When he read, she was in his Nine-Curve Spirit Eye.

Reading official documents, examining files, and engaging in political struggles with the ministers, whenever he raised his head, he saw her as if she were right in front of him.

Habits are terrifying. He was no longer disturbed by Huang Rang.

In the eyes of the world, he was lonely for a hundred years. But in reality, Di Yiqiu never felt that way.

A woman seemed to have been with him all along, surviving in his mind.

Inside his mind, she was not the wife of the sect master of the Yuhu Immortal. She was just a woman, accompanying him on his journey.

Later, countless people wanted to speak for him about having a wife.

They asked the accomplished chief what he meant by a companion.

Di Yiqiu did not answer directly, but every time, a person was in his mind. He didn’t know if it counted as love. Maybe it wasn’t perfect.

He wasn’t interested in women, nor did he crave Huang Rang’s beauty. After Huang Rang married, she also lost her talent for breeding. The chief apparently didn’t envy the enchanting fortune of Xie Hongchen.

He didn’t have the habit of picking up love through sound, nor was he infatuated with her voice.

Di Yiqiu couldn’t even articulate why he liked Huang Rang.

He had never considered taking her away from Xie Hongchen or anything like that. He had simply become accustomed to being alone. Like the first hint of sweetness, throughout the long years, he cherished it.

Di Yiqiu stared at Huang Rang, who was planting flowers on the wall. His thoughts had swept through his mind countless times.

How to destroy an empty space and escape from this predicament?

Di Yiqiu scanned the dark room, and everything in it was consistent with his memories.

A bed, a small table, and a small stool. On the table, there was a teapot with six teacups.

Di Yiqiu crawled laboriously, lowered his head, and once again examined his hands. Then he slowly moved his swollen body to the table and surveyed the teapot.

Suddenly, he lifted the stool and threw it with force. The stool was not very sturdy and immediately fell apart.

Di Yiqiu slowly picked up a piece of table leg. Then he smashed one of the teacups.

The broken porcelain splattered, and he picked up a piece, starting to carve the leg of the stool. He worked with his hands, which were clumsy and painful. The sharp porcelain was not easy to handle and cut into his flesh. Blood flowed down, darkening its color.

He carved for a while, then suddenly looked up. In the Nine-Curve Spirit Eye on the wall, Huang Rang was no longer visible. Only the orchids she planted waved their lush leaves under the sunlight, as if beckoning.

“Ah Rang…” Two words uttered as a light sigh triggered a resounding echo.

Di Yiqiu lowered his head and continued carving the wooden object in his hands.

His movements were slow, and his fingers were blurred with blood and flesh. However, such a body was no longer unfamiliar. The wooden object gradually took shape, vaguely resembling a tower. Nine tiers, eight-sided steps, flying eaves, and corners adorned with bells.

…The Yuanrong Tower!

With a piece of scrap wood, he recreated the Yuanrong Tower!

Di Yiqiu’s hands didn’t stop, and there might be Huang Rang’s voice in his ears. Sometimes he raised his head, and in the dark room, there was no pain, no loneliness, and no invasion of fear.

On top of the wooden tower, Di Yiqiu tried hard to recall the formation inside the Yuanrong Tower. He painstakingly reconstructed it step by step.

However, the broken porcelain was rough, and many delicate carvings were incomplete.

Di Yiqiu glanced at the teapot on the table. Just an ordinary iron teapot. When he picked it up, he used all his strength to crush it and tear it open. Finally, he obtained the knife he wanted.

With a crudely made knife, he carved the runes from his memory, one by one.

The Yuanrong Tower required an enormous amount of resentment and pain. A small tower, naturally, couldn’t compare.

—It didn’t need to be compared with the Yuanrong Tower. Could a small and narrow space consume much resentment?

Di Yiqiu made the final cut, from his leg downward, carving a wound deep enough to see the bone.

Blood gushed like a fountain, and his hands were covered in blood. Trembling, he reached towards the wooden miniature tower. In an instant, the incantations flipped in his mind. The suffering of one person might be limited, but driving the small tower was already sufficient.

He forcefully pushed backward!

Throughout the dark room, it seemed like the order imposed by the Yuanrong Tower was quickly being disrupted! It desperately tried to repair itself, but Di Yiqiu’s body was visibly improving to the naked eye!

Time was truly propelled by him!

Di Yiqiu struggled with all his might, and the Yuanrong Tower desperately tried to repair the damage caused by the foreign object. However, the space was too narrow, and Di Yiqiu once again cut through his other leg with a single stroke.

The intense pain made him tremble uncontrollably.

After a moment, a loud sound rang in his ears, like the shattering of crystals!

The dark room in front of him gradually melted away like ink.

He succeeded!

Di Yiqiu lifted his head and looked at the Nine-Curve Spirit Eye on the wall. Inside, the orchids planted by Huang Rang slowly dissolved.

And in front of Di Yiqiu, another world emerged!

He stood by a river, and on the opposite bank, the world turned to sand, everything was in ruins, and not a single blade of grass grew. But where he stood, the flowing water was like a song, the birds chirped, and the fragrance of flowers filled the air, with sunlight as gentle as a thin veil.

Di Yiqiu walked along the riverbank, watching the water flow. Wherever it passed, the world, which had turned into sand, seemed to be washed away, replaced by green grass and flourishing flowers.

Even the replicated houses became gradually familiar to him.

—As a chief, how could he not be familiar with the mountains and rivers of the country?

The world was vast, yet not a single person was in sight.

Di Yiqiu quickened his pace, and old wounds flared up. He lowered his head to examine himself. He no longer resembled the swollen figure from the dark room.

His cultivation had returned; although still covered in scars, it was not fatal to his transformed body.

Where was he?

And when?

Was he trapped in a broader world now?

He ran as if flying; gradually, however, he saw some people.

These people stood on the other side of the river, gazing blankly at the side across the water.

“Don’t cross the river!” Di Yiqiu’s voice was hoarse, almost a roar: “He just wants to make you drown in the river, using it to gather resentment. Don’t be fooled!”

But in this place and time, who would listen to his words?

Countless people fled towards the river, soon to be submerged by its current. Di Yiqiu reached out to try to grab them, but with his strength alone, how many could he save?

Some were extremely fortunate and managed to cross the river against the waves.

However, even more people saw hope and jumped into the water.

In the Yuanrong Tower, Xie Hongchen’s fresh blood dripped into the tower. Endless resentment flowed like a tide, but it dared not devour him. He shone like a radiance in the dark tide.

In front of him was still the image of Huang Rang from years ago, dancing amidst the orchids. On that day, she wore a light golden dance dress, which was cool and refreshing. It couldn’t hide her slender waist or the snow-white color of her legs.

Meanwhile, Xie Hongchen from that time sat among the orchids, drinking a pot of wine.

Huang Rang’s dancing figure was graceful, like a spirit born from the orchids. Xie Hongchen, silently watching the dance, drank in silence.

He said nothing. When the dance ended, he left.

Huang Rang took a couple of steps, then slowly stopped.

Xie Hongchen used his sword to break the illusion in front of him—it turns out, at that time, he said nothing.

After many years, he eventually forgot what he had wanted back then.

“Ah Rang…” he sighed softly, and in the Yuanrong Tower, countless voices responded with strange cries.

Those strange voices eagerly shouted, “Ah Rang—Ah Rang—”

Xie Hongchen dripped blood again, and the Yuanrong Tower trembled once more. Xie Hongchen shattered wave after wave of incoming black mist, protecting the fragile illusion that was on the verge of being extinguished. It was like protecting a precious item in a nine-tier demonic tower, akin to a bottomless hell.

—Ah Rang, I want to start over from scratch.

Can I exchange everything I have for that? 

Xie Hongchen reached out to the illusion; the fabric on Huang Rang’s clothes slowly fell like wings losing feathers. When it was about to fall into his palm, it dissipated like smoke.