60 - A Farewell to Mr. Luo

Chapter 60 Bai Fan tirelessly absorbed the spiritual energy beneath the Lingxiao vine. After all, this was once the holy land of cultivation at Fuyou Palace, where the inexhaustible spiritual power seemed endless and boundless. Just as Bai Fan’s body was nearing its capacity, the previously tranquil dream realm suddenly behaved like a ravenous beast, accelerating her absorption of spiritual energy to an alarming speed. Meanwhile, He Yiman, perched on a tree, felt the initial gale transform into a hurricane. If it weren't for the millennia-old vine, it would have been uprooted long ago. She could only cling desperately to the vine to avoid being blown away. "What is happening?" Inside, Bai Fan’s internal cultivation method went into overdrive. As she continued her meditation, she became aware of the anomaly. This unexpected event in the formerly stable dream realm left her with no time to observe further. She dashed into the dream realm, where the dense spiritual energy was almost tangible, sticking to her throat and ears like viscous liquid, making even breathing feel obstructed. Bai Fan’s first instinct was to head towards the Serpent Pill, only to find it unchanged. Her confusion grew until she remembered the Dragon Essence on the other side and sped towards it. At this moment, the Dragon Essence shimmered dreamily, refracting multicolored lights within its white crystal orb. Anyone staring too long might become entranced by its brilliance. "I haven’t tampered with anything lately, so why is this happening? The Dragon Essence seems intact. Could it be because I'm about to form my core?" The small white snake slithered through the misty dream realm, which now appeared even more ethereal. Upon landing on the Dragon Essence, she realized something was amiss—absorbing so much spiritual energy seemed to be animating the essence itself. **Thump, thump, thump.** Bai Fan didn’t want another black snake appearing. Managing one Serpent Pill was already difficult; another little dragon would be too much. With a darkening, hesitant gaze, she looked back at the outside world where spiritual energy was still surging uncontrollably. She couldn’t just let this continue. The only solution was to absorb it all before it could take form. She remembered someone waiting for her outside. Could she really eradicate the Dragon Essence in just two hours? If all those memories flooded her mind at once, she might go mad. She recalled the last time—the giant hand that left her so terrified she lost all will to resist. The despair of not seeing another dawn—she never wanted to experience that again. In her predicament, Bai Fan only desired to escape this state. The Dragon Essence had locked her into meditation, making it impossible to leave. Promised two hours had unknowingly stretched longer, and she wasn’t even in the safety of the Xuanming Cavern, heightening her danger. "This is the only way. As long as I hold onto my consciousness, it will be fine. These are just memories. As long as I remember that I am Bai Fan, everything will be okay." Taking a deep breath, Bai Fan opened her mouth, her pupils dilating, turning her golden eyes into deep, dark pools. The Dragon Essence transformed into a stream of essence and flew into Bai Fan's mouth. Unlike the previous slow absorption, this time it was direct, rapidly saturating her mind with memories as though flipping through a book at high speed. Bai Fan skimmed through the countless memories, barely grasping any. The Dragon’s extensive, flawless memory flooded her mind with countless scattered events, making her dizzy, though she dared not stop gobbling the essence. As the Dragon Essence diminished, Bai Fan's body visibly grew, her form becoming more draconic. The bumps on her head rose higher, her mouth filled with fangs, rendering her look exceedingly fierce. Her forked tongue broadened and rounded, and spines began to sprout along her back, causing excruciating pain. She wondered if she was transforming back in the exterior world and if the sight might frighten He Yiman. The Dragon Essence was unimaginably potent. Initially resembling a snake, Bai Fan was now closer to a true dragon. Her abdomen’s swelling became conspicuous even from a distance. As she consumed more essence, her thoughts blurred. Were it not for her constant self-reassurance—“I am Bai Fan”—she might have believed herself to be the deceased dragon of the Mirkwood. Outside, He Yiman saw Bai Fan’s hair suddenly turn white, and was astonished. She had no idea what physical changes were occurring to her friend, whose hairpins could no longer constrain the cascading white hair, making her look as though she had weathered countless eons. “What’s happening? Has she succumbed to the inner demon?” He Yiman watched Bai Fan intently, her brow furrowing deeper with concern. In the dream realm, Bai Fan’s serpent eyes grew more confused. As she absorbed the last bit of essence, she murmered, “I am Bai Fan, I am Bai Fan...” Memories surged in like waves, threatening to drown her original thoughts. Outside, He Yiman clutched her flute tightly, unable to keep from shouting, “Bai Fan, what’s happening to you?” “Bai Fan!” Within the dream realm, Bai Fan heard a voice calling her. The snake’s mouth continued murmuring, “I am Bai Fan, I am Bai Fan...” As the Dragon Essence vanished, the turbulent spiritual energy abruptly halted, returning the surroundings to their former calm. The hurricane subsided entirely, leaving a layer of Lingxiao petals on the ground. Seeing Bai Fan remain unconscious, He Yiman leapt from the vine to find her friend’s eyes open but blood-red, the pupils completely gone. “Is this really the inner demon?” In the dream realm, Bai Fan endured the overwhelming emotions from the Dragon Essence—chiefly anger, a furious rage laced with humiliation. A consuming fury that desired to obliterate the world. Bai Fan stood, staring blankly at the distance. Her face, previously expressive, now contorted grotesquely with muscle spasms. She seemed ready to roar at the sky when He Yiman rushed over to cover her mouth. Here in Fuyou Palace, their turbulence had already drawn enough attention. Another roar might attract even more unwelcome visitors. “Bai Fan, are you mad? This is Fuyou Palace. If you roar, we won’t be able to leave today.” But Bai Fan couldn’t hear He Yiman; her mind was a chaotic mess, her original memories adrift like a tiny boat on stormy seas, susceptible to being capsized any moment. “Where am I? Am I lost?” Surrounded by sea, each wave crashing into her mind with a new memory, Bai Fan realized she was lost within the Dragon Essence’s memories. Their vastness left her unable to sort through them. Outside, Bai Fan struggled like a wild beast in He Yiman’s grasp, as if drowning. “Her consciousness isn’t clear. What kind of cultivation method is this?” With no other option, He Yiman raised her flute and struck Bai Fan’s head, causing her to collapse, peaceful at last. "We can’t wait here for you to wake up; we can’t stay here any longer. People might be coming." She picked Bai Fan up by the back of her collar and played her flute, summoning a wind to carry them away. At the foot of the mountain, a group of cultivators arrived, noticing a green and white figure in the distance. “A green robe—that must be a disciple of Fuyou Palace.” “Definitely. It’s the same style as Fuyou Palace disciples from the past.” “Who would’ve thought we’d be so lucky today, running into a Fuyou Palace disciple.” “But wait, weren’t all Fuyou Palace disciples supposed to be wiped out? How could one appear now? Could someone be impersonating them?” “Who would be so bored as to impersonate a Fuyou Palace disciple? Is being chased really that fun?” "I remember now! I heard there were two disciples from Fuyou Palace who survived. That flute sound we heard as they left... Could it be...?" "Fuyou Palace’s genius disciple, He Yiman." "I heard she created her own Daoist technique, allowing an ordinary mortal to cultivate like us practitioners." "If we could obtain it, wouldn't we be able to stand on equal footing with disciples from other sects?" At this moment, the group of rogue cultivators were entirely consumed by the potential benefits of acquiring He Yiman's technique. They hadn't even taken action yet but were already lost in their fantasies. "Hurry and catch up! Don't let her get away." The group, using all their skills, swiftly pursued the distant green light, trailing numerous glimmers behind it. Such a spectacle quickly drew attention from many others. Even those not knowing the situation joined in to ask. Upon learning who the pursued was, greed spurred them to join the relentless chase. Behind He Yiman, the crowd of cultivators chasing her grew larger and larger. Meanwhile, Bai Fan was in utter despair within the dream realm, helpless and frantic. "What should I do? What should I do? Outside, I must look like a fool!" He Yiman, observing the ever-growing number of pursuing cultivators, never anticipated there would be so many, and more kept coming as time went on. "Why aren't you waking up? Look at the trouble you've caused!" Pressing her lips together, He Yiman’s face darkened. She stared at Bai Fan, her brow furrowing deeper and deeper in frustration. Unaware of the situation, Bai Fan continued to struggle within the dream realm. The overwhelming memories surged incessantly, filling her entire consciousness with boundless rage. "No! Roar!" In the dream realm, Bai Fan thrashed her snake body through the sea of memories. She saw a spear piercing through her body, pinning her to the ground no matter how she struggled. Blood gushed from her wounds like a flood, relentless and unstoppable. ※※※※※※※※ To be continued. Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter Homepage | Desktop Version | Bookshelf | Novel Directory | Popular Novels