Chapter 1861 — Must Be an Old Acquaintance

Shen Mu wandered through Jingping. As he drew near the Heavenly Court of Jingping, people gradually began to recognize him.

Not everyone had forgotten him, but those who knew him were all figures from the past.

An occasional exchange of pleasantries slowed his steps.

These friends had not attained the Dao. They had remained behind in Jingping—some living in seclusion, others still part of society. Seeing them filled Shen Mu with boundless emotion.

His arrival stirred no ripples in Jingping. No one knew the origins of this white-templed youth walking through the bustling streets. People only saw that renowned elders came to greet him, and dust-covered swordsmen hurried to meet him.

Some of those figures were famed throughout the world, patriarchs enthroned in halls of power; others were utterly unknown, their names unrecorded.

Shen Mu did not linger long. He still had others to see.

Jingping's Upper Capital and Lower Capital had also changed beyond recognition, dampening his spirits.

Night fell. Jingping's night was enchanting—divine light blazed forth from one God City after another. The people here no longer needed to fear the assault of darkness; the radiance of the God Cities made even the bright moon in the sky seem dim by comparison.

Shen Mu looked up. The moon above was as luminous as ever, yet it seemed distant and cold.

He ascended to the moon. In the Moon Palace, a goddess danced with sword in hand, its blade-light like moonlight from a dream, spilling across the palace halls.

Shen Mu stood quietly to one side, watching. After a long while, the goddess in the Moon Palace sheathed her sword, and only then did she see him.

The two stood in silence for a long time, then smiled at each other.

Three and a half billion years—too long. The feelings between them were no longer the love of man and woman, but something more like a harbor, having nothing to do with spirit or flesh, nothing to do with desire or possession—purely a refuge for the soul.

That refuge had become a kind of longing, and the longing gathered into a shallow harbor where one might briefly anchor—no wind, no waves, tranquil and beautiful.

Shen Mu and Bai Qü'er sat on the stone steps of the Moon Palace. Once, their feelings had burned fierce as wildfire. In those days they had ridden sword-light across the night sky, roaming the false heavens, stirring brilliant stars, setting the galaxy itself astir for them.

They had been moved by each other, and even the Jingping sky-screen could not conceal it.

Then, they might have been together, but various matters had delayed it. Now, reunited, ancient divine consciousness surged, rippling in countless waves. Love had sublimated, become a refuge—nothing to do with passion, nothing to do with the future, nothing to do with feeling.

They talked and laughed, savoring the beauty of tranquility.

After a long while, Shen Mu rose. Bai Qü'er smiled and said, "Will we meet again?"

"We will. As long as you still wait for me."

Bai Qü'er watched him depart. The moonlight was hazy, bearing the sediment of ages, substantial yet somehow light.

The sun rose. Jingping's moon grew thin and hid behind the clouds.

Aboard a ferry, Shen Mu saw Lang Wan. Reincarnated, Lang Wan no longer possessed her peerless beauty from the previous life. Through the cabin window, Shen Mu gazed at the woman who had once haunted his dreams.

He could see her soul, see all the experiences of this life, see all the lives before.

Lang Wan seemed to sense his gaze. She turned her head and met his eyes through the window.

Lang Wan smiled and walked over to the window. "This brother—have we met before? You give me a familiar feeling."

She was poised and at ease. Though she no longer had her former face, she still possessed that transcendent bearing.

Shen Mu shook his head and smiled. "We have not met. I merely find you familiar—perhaps we were old acquaintances in a past life."

Lang Wan mused. "I feel that familiarity too. I keep thinking I've seen you somewhere. You—"

She looked up. The white-templed youth had already vanished.

Lang Wan felt a pang of loss. She murmured, "Perhaps an old acquaintance... perhaps an old acquaintance... Who are you, really..."

Shen Mu returned to his homeland, only to find the site of Yincan Village gone. In its place stood towering buildings, streams of traffic, a cacophony of noise.

"I think I know you!"

A divine being transformed from a plume-crowned fire pheasant dragon spoke to him solemnly.

Shen Mu smiled faintly. Under that smile, the plume-crowned fire pheasant dragon involuntarily recalled the miserable years of the past. When he came back to his senses, Shen Mu had already disappeared.

Shen Mu returned to his wife Ling Yuxiu's side. When the war of the Ancestral Court erupted, he had sent Ling Yuxiu back to Jingping. As one of Jingping's most ancient Great Emperors, Ling Yuxiu had not gone to Jingping's Upper Capital. She seemed to know that Shen Mu would return to their old home in Yincan Village, and that he would not find it—so she settled beside the ruins of the Yong River.

She had not attained the Dao. Through the long ages, despite cultivating desperately, she always fell just short.

That final margin was a chasm. Even though her husband was the Mu Heavenly Venerate, the Seventh Young Master, he could not help her cross it.

The couple lived plainly by the Yong River. Lord Huanlong would occasionally come to their home as a guest, freeloading meals and drink. Shen Mu had entertained him a few times at first, but as Lord Huanlong's visits grew frequent, he drove him away.

"The Yong River is gone. The oath you swore to Lord Earth has dissolved. You will not face tribulation for leaving the Yong River. Lord Huanlong, you may leave now," Shen Mu told him.

Lord Huanlong looked dazed. His voice trembled. "I can leave the Yong River?"

Shen Mu said, "The day the Yong River dried up, you became free to leave. From that day on, you were no longer the Dragon Emperor of the Yong River."

Lord Huanlong was overjoyed, leaping and shouting, carrying on for a long time—then suddenly burst into tears. "Where should I go? I guarded this place for three and a half billion years. Where do I go now..."

"The world is vast, and the future vaster still. You can go anywhere." Shen Mu patted his shoulder and watched him leave.

Lord Huanlong, forlorn, gradually walked into the distance.

Shen Mu and Ling Yuxiu's days grew quiet again. Both knew the bond in each other's heart—their souls were tied to their bloodline—but neither mentioned that matter.

Because to mention it would be to mark the day Shen Mu must leave, and the husband and wife would be parted.

They had been together too long—three and a half billion years. After separation, each would feel incomplete, as though body and soul had suddenly lost a piece.

But they would have to part in the end.

In those days, news kept arriving from the Ancestral Court. Dao-attainers had been wounded—grievously wounded with Dao injuries—returning with difficulty from the Ancestral Court to Jingping, bringing tidings that shook the entire universe.

The Jade Capital had descended. The prehistoric flood of savage beasts was about to strike. The Ancestral Court had been shattered. Many of Jingping's Dao-attainers had fallen in battle.

The sensation these tidings caused was imaginable—sweeping through Jingping, sweeping through all the heavens and myriad worlds of the universe.

"Is there not someone stationed there?"

Some were bewildered, some terrified. "Has that person not guarded it for three and a half billion years? How did he flee?"

"Did he die in battle?"

"Or did he run away?"

"Why did he not hold the Ancestral Court?"

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