Chapter 103: A Farewell Without Goodbye (Four Thousand Words!)

After the time it takes to burn an incense stick.

At the mountaintop, all was silent and serene, save for faint sounds of soft crying, as if lamenting in whispers.

“Phew~ Finally tricked that kid in. It really took a lot of effort,” Yu Daoyi said, slowly opening his eyes to gaze at the motionless Xiao Qian before him. Ignoring him completely, he stretched lazily.

“Yu Daoyi? Are you alright?” Yaoyao’s voice sounded slightly surprised.

“What could be wrong? It’s all thanks to my acting skills from childhood. If I’d known it could end this way, why did I bother fighting him so fiercely? The more I think about it, the angrier I get. It’s all that guy’s fault for not telling me earlier!” Yu Daoyi’s expression shifted suddenly; he kept blaming that fractured spiritual artifact in his heart.

“What do you mean?” Yaoyao hurried over, puzzled.

“Sorry for tricking you earlier. I had no choice; this was the only way I could think of to make him disappear,” Yu Daoyi scratched his head and smiled sheepishly.

“So, where is that guy now?” Yaoyao still looked confused.

“Hm~ He’s off searching for the meaning of growth,” Yu Daoyi replied with a mischievous grin.

“??????”

“From innocence to maturity, the journey is tough. Simply put, he’s been turned into food.”

...

Before the incense finished burning.

In the center of Yu Daoyi’s mind, a sea of consciousness the size of a small pond was filled with a swirling mist of dark ink mixed with blood-red hues, shouting incessantly.

“You bastard! You deceived me! You schemed against me!”

“Cut the crap! Becoming my food is your greatest honor! If I weren’t eager to regain my strength quickly, I wouldn’t even bother with you!”

Within the mist floated a tattered red scroll, emitting an eerie crimson glow, seemingly devouring the power within the fog.

“What exactly are you? Ah! My power!”

“Regrettably, I only retain a quarter of my memories, so I cannot answer what I truly am. Don’t resist; when I’ve fully recovered, I’ll find the answers.”

“Damn it! I’m unwilling, I won’t accept this!”

“You think you’re tough? Try pulling that stunt again and see what happens!”

By the sea of consciousness, a manifestation of Yu Daoyi’s spiritual energy sneered at the mist, his words brimming with arrogance.

Yet, at the same time, he grew wary of the tattered scroll. Even though he himself was powerless against it—despite unleashing his full Nine Refinement Hell technique and still unable to overcome—it was clear this seductive bastard was far more formidable than he imagined. One careless moment and he might fall under its sway again.

Time passed. The mist gradually thinned and darkened. The shouts from within grew faint until they vanished completely.

In a daze, the consciousness within the mist seemed to glimpse something: a peach blossom village, neat houses bathed in perfect sunlight, peach blossoms swirling everywhere, and even the gentle breeze carried the scent of peach flowers.

Beautiful, so beautiful it made one squint against the light.

In the village center, beneath a giant peach blossom tree:

Two or three chicks, three or four chairs, five or six fans, seven or eight jars of peach wine, nine or ten people scattered about, the ground carpeted in peach petals.

Xiao Qian laughed and talked joyfully with the village elders, while Yaoyao softly chimed in, smiles blooming on their faces, laughter flowing endlessly.

“Heh, that’s truly a little enviable,” Yu Daoyi muttered.

Half an incense later, the mist ceased its clamor completely, shrinking until it dissolved into an ordinary wisp of smoke, vanishing into thin air.

“How can one trust a ghost’s words? And can one trust a human’s?” Yu Daoyi whispered as the mist disappeared, then turned to regard the red scroll.

“Really has a big appetite; everything tastes delicious,” he joked.

“Burp~~~”

“...You brat!”

“Rare food, just a bit bland.”

“So this is one of your abilities?”

“Ability? It’s only because you’re too weak. I can only gain power this way. Even so, the strength I get is less than ten percent of what I consume—barely worth the effort.”

“...Enough nonsense. I just want to know what my reward is.”

“I’m tired. Going to sleep.”

“Heh, heh heh! A quarter-memory shattered artifact and you’re still so arrogant! You deserve to be struck by lightning!”

“I wasn’t struck by lightning, and you’ve seen it before.”

...

“...That makes sense. No, wait! Is this the time to be talking about this?”

“Enough. At the crucial moment, I promise to lend you some of my power as repayment, but only once.”

“You’re hiding something! Last time you clearly had energy left! You acted like you were completely drained and sleeping, ignoring me!”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about, and mind your attitude. Even though you survived last time for reasons unknown, I still don’t acknowledge you!”

“Good grief! You dare mention last time! I was the one you tricked! What kind of attitude is that? Hey! Say something!”

Yu Daoyi glared at the floating book in his mind, fuming but powerless against it.

...

“Hey, hey! What’s wrong?” Yaoyao asked, seeing Yu Daoyi lost in thought.

“Nothing, just distracted. Let’s continue. Once dawn breaks, unexpected factors might arise,” Yu Daoyi shook his head.

“What about Xiao Qian?” Yaoyao was worried.

“He should be fine—just fallen into a deep sleep. Without that guy, I think you can all be reunited.”

“Mm!” Yaoyao nodded vigorously, her pale face even weaker from blood loss.

Staggering to her feet, she approached the tombstone and began breaking its seal. The tombstone trembled, and the entire illusion quaked.

“Finally, is it over?” Yu Daoyi whispered, casting a glance at Yaoyao, his eyes filled with reluctant sorrow.

“Really, have I started confusing illusion with reality?” Like sand blown by the wind clouding his eyes, Yu Daoyi rubbed them repeatedly.

Everything before him began to shatter; the blood moon slowly returned to its pristine state, the crimson night fading away. All became ordinary, like a normal evening. The night breeze returned, cool but no longer tinged with blood.

Beams of light rose from every corner of the illusion, piercing the clouds and illuminating the night anew. The illusion fragmented into shards of white light.

“Yaoyao, is it... done...” Yu Daoyi turned, but no one was there. His whispered words trailed off: “...finished.”

“Really, none of you said a word before leaving. Xiao Qian too. I’ve wasted my care on him!”

“Phew, let’s go! Let’s all leave! We were never really on the same path—just passing through.”

“Then why does it feel so painful?”

Yu Daoyi feigned indifference but his eyes were already moist.

The beams of light multiplied. Suddenly one appeared here, then three there. The night transformed into day, dazzled by the brilliant white glow. Everything blurred until only a vast, white world remained.

“Hey! Scoundrel!” A familiar voice came from nowhere, lazy and youthful, no longer deep and bitter.

“Xiao Qian?” Yu Daoyi blinked, searching around but saw nothing but white.

“Why the long face? Such a grown-up and still crying like a baby! How embarrassing!” Xiao Qian teased again.

“What are you saying? Who’s crying? Come out!” Yu Daoyi quickly wiped his tears and tried to pretend.

“Tch! If you call me out, I’ll come. Remember, no more biting yourself silly next time! It’s ugly!”

As if nothing had happened, he was still himself—just like the first meeting, the first farewell, perfectly normal.

“Ha, really, mind your own business!”

“Yu Daoyi.”

He would never forget—that was her voice.

“Yaoyao! Yaoyao, where are you?”

“Sorry. I didn’t expect the farewell to be so sudden. The blood array has been broken. I think you can return to your world now.”

That gentle voice, no matter how many times he heard it, always soothed his restless heart.

“Yaoyao! No matter what, don’t be a fool! Take care of yourself wherever you are! Next time, there won’t be a fool like me to accompany your madness! Remember that!” Yu Daoyi shouted aimlessly, knowing she could hear him.

“Mm, I’ll remember. If there’s a next life, I’ll come find you!”

“If there’s a next life, I’ll find you first! Ha, I’ll come with a grand procession! Don’t forget me!”

Yu Daoyi smiled, then suddenly started crying again. This was his first experience of parting between life and death since arriving in this world.

“Mm! I’ll wait for you! I won’t forget you!”

This was a promise—their second. The first he kept, so he could keep this one too.

Reborn into the cycle, with a future life, she would wait for such a person—so reckless, even shameless in speech, yet faithful to every promise and vow.

Though they shared no blood ties, once involved with him, he would never let go, no matter what. Such a trouble, impossible to shake off.

So, my future self, if there is another lifetime, please, please let me see him again. Then I want to smile and say,

“Look, you lied. This time, I found you first.”

I truly want to say that.

“Heh, I’ll stay out of young folks’ quarrels!” came a hearty old laugh.

“Village elder! Next time, don’t always entertain guests with food! I nearly threw up!”

Yu Daoyi shook his hand repeatedly, wanting them to know he wouldn’t forget anyone, whether they could see him or not.

“All right, all right!”

“Yu Daoyi.”

The ancient peach tree slowly transformed into a human form, emerging from the field of white light. After millennia of waiting, it had finally found peace.

He was a kindly old man.

“Sir,” Yu Daoyi’s tear-streaked face smiled gently, “I have finally disappointed your expectations.”

“You’ve done very well. I’m the one who owes you,” the old peach tree bowed deeply to Yu Daoyi.

“No, no, I can’t accept that,” Yu Daoyi hurriedly helped him up.

“The blood array is broken. I, who was bound to it, can finally rest. The world I created should now dissolve.”

“All began with me. I truly committed so many wrongs.”

“No blame should fall on you for any of this,” Yu Daoyi shook his head softly.

“Heh, old age makes one prone to nagging. Just listen and let it pass. But there’s something you must hear—it’s what we all owe you.”

“What?”

“Thank you. Truly, thank you.”

“No need for thanks. Really, it’s them.” Yu Daoyi’s vision blurred once more.

“Yu Daoyi.” The old peach tree called softly.

“Hm?”

“This is what you deserve. Don’t refuse; let them depart in peace.”

The old peach tree gently placed his withered, wrinkled hand on Yu Daoyi’s head. Though aged, it was warm, soothing to the heart.

“Mm, could you please pass on a message for me?” Yu Daoyi, head bowed, tears dripping into the white light at his feet.

“Speak.”

“You’re welcome.” Yu Daoyi smiled earnestly, joyfully.

“I promise I will convey it to each and every one of them.”

“Yu Daoyi, may your future path be free of sorrow and full of joy. May your tears be tears of happiness.”

“Farewell.” The old peach tree’s form began to fade, dissolving into the white light.

I will not say goodbye to you. I believe that farewells without true goodbyes always lead to reunion.

Though I suffered much pain here, I can now proudly say: meeting you all was truly wonderful.

Everything began to fade, faint and blurred. Yu Daoyi saw Xiao Qian and Yaoyao waving gently, like a farewell, yet also an eager hope to meet again, their smiles as bright as his own...

White light flooded his eyes, and in an instant, he fell unconscious.

As if it were only a dream—dreaming, awakening, neither fully real nor unreal—all of it came to an end.

Unable to resist the lingering incense, willingly sinking into fate.

Ultimately, a festival of withered bones, a lifetime.

Life is but a grand dream; how many autumns have passed?

The tale of the Peach Blossom Spring, forever untrodden thereafter.