Chapter 86: Which One Is the Real Me - I Forged Them in Darkness, and They Buried Me in It

Chapter 86: Which One Is the Real Me No! In the endless foggy prison, Su Chichi suddenly felt panic. Her soaked long hair clung messily to her forehead. She instinctively stretched out her hand, her nostrils flaring as she gasped for breath, her voice already hoarse. But it was all in vain. Who would have thought that the one to first draw the sword for 'The Past' would be the creator of it all? The woman's longsword slipped from her hand, falling to the ground. She knelt halfway, her nails deeply embedded in her palm, drawing several strands of bright red blood. She closed her eyes, unable to bear witnessing the upcoming scene. The man's black-and-white eyes held no resentment, no confusion. There was only a deathly calm. But the memories that existed in her mind could not simply be resolved by closing her eyes. The scenes continued to flow. Yet the next moment, Su Chichi's eyes flew open wide. Because the anticipated scene did not unfold. In the vision, she, at the last moment, stayed her hand, abandoned the past, and went forward to embrace the man. There was little need for words—they clung to each other tightly. A look of helplessness and perplexity spread across the young woman's face. The man, smiling, comforted her, explaining the events of that year. He remained unwavering, indulging her unconditionally despite the backstabbing incident. Their paths crossed once again, but the ending seemed vastly different. Su Chichi stared blankly at the scene of them embracing each other, feeling something was amiss in her heart, yet she was unwilling to ponder further. If it could continue like this, she was willing to immerse herself in it, even if she never awoke again. But in the depths of her consciousness, a final shred of clarity seemed to remain, reminding her. Which one... is the real me? … Blue Star, Mount Longhu. There were no trees in the B-four courtyard; although Chen An set up a bamboo chair, lying in the empty yard, he occasionally thought something was missing. No trees meant no falling leaves. Thus, Chen An couldn't enjoy the idle sight of watching leaves sway on branches, then be blown off by unknown winds, spinning in the air, before gently landing on the ground, something he had done in a past life. He didn't keep track of the days, vaguely recalling that over a dozen days and nights had passed since coming here. During this period, other than going to the cafeteria to eat, Chen An rarely ventured out. His three roommates initially questioned and didn't understand his extremely lazy attitude but gradually came to accept it. If he's that way, skipping classes and all, what else could be done but just go along with it? Outside Mount Longhu, unlike Chen An, everyone else worked tirelessly, pushing themselves to the limit. Nobody dared relax even a bit, fearing that a single lapse would cause them to fall behind, unable to catch up. Everywhere on the cliffside platforms, students could be seen tirelessly training. Some were refining their bodies, others jogging, some meditating at sunrise and sunset. They all strived hard to enter Qi Cultivation. As for who would be the first among them to claim the top spot, there was already speculation among the students. Excluding Chen An and Lin Jingqiu, who were unknown quantities, the most attention was on those with a solid foundation. They spoke eloquently, exuding an extraordinary aura, standing out in a crowd like cranes among chickens. For example, there were those from Mount Qingcheng of Mount Longhu, others from Taoist temples from different regions, and those with strong family backgrounds. The most representative was a young man named He Jin. A prominent disciple of Mount Longhu, backed by the He family in the capital, his reputation spread through the new student body, intentionally or not, in just over ten days. In this aspect, Lin Jingqiu shared a similar stature with him, although their paths were vastly different. One was highly flamboyant, eager to gather followers and establish his own circle. The other, however, was quiet and extremely low-key. That afternoon, the door of the B-four courtyard creaked open, admitting three boys, chatting and laughing. Having been here a while, Shao Ren and the other two had swiftly moved past their initial excitement and nerves, settling into the rhythm of cultivation. After just attending a formation class, they returned, still enthusiastically discussing it. “To be honest, Meng Shi is definitely skilled and knowledgeable, but he looks so stern that I'm too scared to ask questions.” This was Sun Zhenjiang's voice, clicking his tongue, sounding quite disgruntled. The other two nodded in agreement. “True, but for a bad temper, Ma Shi from the Dan Cultivation is the worst. I've heard if you're caught daydreaming in his class, you'll be used as a test subject for potions, which is terrifying.” Xie Wenqing said, suddenly chuckling as he thought of something. “I think the class everyone likes best is probably Luo Shi's. She's beautiful, has a great figure, and most importantly, she's gentle.” At this, the three of them exchanged glances, eyes filled with agreement. “Absolutely, just think about how every class in the Sword Cultivation department is always full? I often see people standing at the back just to listen in.” As this conversation flowed, their eyes wandered, landing on the boy on the bamboo chair, causing their expressions to pause. After all, on the first day, they had seen him following behind Luo Shi. Initially, the three thought Chen An might be secretly skilled, merely pretending to be aloof, unwilling to mingle with them. But as time passed, Chen An didn't exhibit any outstanding traits. The three began to suspect that perhaps his relationship with Luo Shi was purely coincidental? Considering Luo Shi's gentle nature, it wasn't impossible. Yet, regardless, Chen An's present self-destructive demeanor was, frankly, disdainful. Fortunately, there was no unsolvable conflict among them, and they remained outwardly polite. “Chen An,” Shao Ren greeted him first. To which, from the bamboo chair, came the boy’s casual reply. “Good afternoon.” Such responses from Chen An no longer surprised the three. They even privately joked about him being an emotionless greeting machine. If you greeted him, it triggered the keyword, and you’d receive a slow response. After exchanging pleasantries, the three moved small stools from inside, sitting in the courtyard, basking in the sun, chatting about anything and everything. Shao Ren pulled out his phone, carelessly scrolling through the screen. Seeing the first news push from the browser, he showed slight surprise. He beckoned the other two, “Hey, check this out, another fierce beast attack over by Changbai Mountain.” The other two perked up, intrigued.