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In the blink of an eye, the circumstances changed. But all I cared about was savoring the delicious taste that reminded me of a memory. Suddenly, a loud voice full of anger rang out behind me.
"Who are you? Why have you come to take the spirit fruit of our sect without permission?"
A middle-aged man with an extraordinary appearance, his hair and beard white with age, stood there. He was dressed neatly, and just by looking at him, one could tell he held a significant position.
Everything felt like an illusion.
I closed my eyes, abandoning the thought of wanting to enjoy the fruit once more. The scene returned to its original state, still that humble cottage, all of it feeling like a dream. The only evidence of what I had experienced was the half-eaten red spirit fruit in my hand.
I realized that whenever I wanted to see the future or past of an object, a mysterious force from the shiny, mystical piece of paper would pour out. This force transported me to the place and time I wished to see. I was very curious about who created this piece of paper.
I looked at the creator of the paper. The scene transformed, and I found myself in a dark space. Before me stood an elderly man with silver hair, weak to the point of frailty. As I looked at him, an invisible connection formed between us. I realized this was my own self, not the self of my future life.
He revealed to me the truth that there would always be a mysterious force plotting against us. It pushed us to desperately cultivate our abilities, while also hindering us from reaping the rewards of our efforts. In the end, it all meant nothing. We shared the same origin and soul, similar to the cycle of reincarnation, but without any memory. It felt like being a slave, repeating a singular purpose of cultivation and enlightenment, regardless of the pain and losses we had to endure.
I was the first cycle of this reincarnation, and he was not the last.
He also mentioned that I had come to warn him, but he hadn't listened, and by the time he realized it was too late. In the last moments of his life, he poured all his cultivation into a scroll of paper.
That scroll was the shiny paper in my possession, and only he could use it. It was called the Mind Heart Map. He sent this map back to the past in that cave, hoping I would utilize it well and not regret it like he did.
He told me I had grasped the laws of time, but lacked the ability to execute them. This scroll would be my strength, the arm that would help me achieve divine powers.
He could not end this chain of suffering. He pleaded with me to move toward the future to save her, to save his love.
Tears fell from my eyes; I felt everything—the pain of the person before me. Closing my eyes, everything returned to normal.
In the cave, as I opened the scroll, it still shone brightly, and beneath it appeared the words: "Cherish everything you have."
Holding the dark, endless ring in my hand, I wondered if she had already died.
I wanted to see her one last time wearing this ring.
The scene changed again, and in the blink of an eye, time shifted. I found myself outside a thatched house, facing a wooden house on the mountainside.
At that moment, Eira was wearing a straw hat, her long, glossy black hair tied into a large bundle cascading down her chest. Her eyes were bright, soft as butterfly wings, her lips rosy and moist. Her ordinary clothes could not hide her exquisite figure. She was still as beautiful as ever.
Behind her stood a middle-aged man dressed in luxurious attire, with a face resembling hers, kneeling and pleading for something.
I looked at that familiar face I hadn't seen in a long time. Strangely, I felt only a faint nostalgia, without any strong emotions. I stood there, yet they seemed oblivious to my presence.
The middle-aged man was Eira's uncle, kneeling to plead with her to return and lead the family. It seemed her clan was on the verge of decline, ready to collapse at any moment.
At this moment, her cultivation had not diminished but had even grown to the Intermediate Stage of the Nascent Soul, surpassing the previous generation.
..
She looked at the uncle who had loved her dearly, who was now suffering and pleading. Then she glanced at the wooden house on the mountainside, sighed, and her entire being felt heavy and weary. Reluctantly, she took off the bracelet and walked toward the wooden house. After lingering for a long time, she left behind the memento and took back the bracelet she had given me before turning to leave.
...
Watching her weary figure retreat, I wanted to see her last day.
The space shifted dramatically; a year passed. Now, Eira had her hair neatly tied up, highlighting the perfect features of her face. She sat on a high chair, her gaze sharp; she was now a powerful lady. Below her, the elders of the family were reporting. The hall was filled with an air of majesty.
Looking at her high and mighty, I felt a sense of discomfort rise within me, an unsettling rhythm in my heart. She and I had long become people of two different worlds; it had been 50 years. Yet, seeing her impressive figure stirred strange feelings within me.
Suddenly, in the sky, a blood-red formation appeared, overshadowing the entire Aeron estate. Accompanied by a very serious feminine voice:
"Eira Aeron , what have you done to our Junior Brother Edwards?"
Seated at the head of the room, Eira Aeron stood up. It seemed she had anticipated this moment. With confidence, she stepped outside to face those who had just arrived.
From the whispers of those around, I gathered that the newcomer was an elder of Cloud sect.
She was dressed simply in a white robe trimmed in black. Her hair flowed like a waterfall, and though her face was partly covered by a veil, her large, round eyes were enough to reveal that she was a great beauty.