Amidst an endless expanse of darkness, since the last time he had awakened and encountered that girl with fiery orange hair, he had once again fallen into a profound slumber. This time, it lasted so long that he could no longer hear her call. Yet, precisely because he had indeed awakened once before, returning to this desolate abyss left him with a glimmer of hope—a faint belief that he might one day awaken again. A fragile hope, yet it was something to hold onto, something to brighten the void.
During this unmeasurable time, his thoughts were often consumed by the girl. He longed for her voice to pierce the darkness once more, to pull him from this desolation. No matter how slim the chance, he clung to it, for in this hopeless place, he had no other recourse. But time has the power to erode even the strongest resolve. Year after year, he awaited her call, only to be met with disappointment and despair. Slowly, hope crumbled under the weight of time, and his awareness began to wane, fading into a shadow of what it once was.
Eventually, he could no longer measure time, his consciousness slipping into oblivion. As his awareness dimmed, he believed it wouldn't be long before he lost the final vestiges of his existence.
… Meanwhile, in a forest near a village graveyard, a mysterious figure cloaked in black moved furtively through the night. Glancing around cautiously to ensure no one was nearby, the figure crept into the graveyard, carrying a shovel and several talismans. Step by step, the figure advanced, their demeanor exuding unease.
Soon, the rhythmic sound of a shovel digging into the earth echoed through the graveyard. "That bastard Lü Liang, always making things difficult for me. Hmph, but he underestimates my determination. So what if it's Zhang Xilin's remains? Let's see what excuse he'll have to deny my entry into the Quanxing Sect after this."
With practiced efficiency, the figure manipulated a corpse to unearth a grave. The coffin was quickly opened, revealing the remains inside. Holding a talisman between their fingers, the figure murmured an incantation, causing the talisman to burst into eerie flames. Moments later, several corpses emerged from the ground, stiffly shambling to the figure's side.
"Take the remains and wait for me over there," the figure commanded. The corpses obeyed, hoisting the skeletal remains and standing silently by. The figure then turned to other graves, pulling more talismans from their cloak and pressing them into nearly every tombstone.
"Hmph, might as well make use of my time here. If Lü Liang dares to double-cross me, he'll regret it."
After finishing their work, the figure held a final talisman in their hand. This one was different—aged, with intricate markings drawn in cinnabar, exuding an air of antiquity.
"This…" The figure paused, staring at the talisman. A wave of nostalgia and frustration flickered across their eyes.
"How many years has it been? The curse and talisman were embedded in you long ago, yet you never once responded to my call. Back then, you even talked about being my friend. I was such a fool to believe you."
The figure's hood slipped back, revealing long orange-red hair tied into twin ponytails—a stark contrast to the short locks of her youth. Time had clearly changed her, but the fire in her eyes remained.
"Ugh, forget it…" she muttered. "You were my first friend, after all. Even if we barely spoke and only met briefly, you agreed to be my friend. For that, I'll try one last time."
Hope flickered in her gaze as she held the talisman between her fingers, reciting an incantation. Yet, the talisman remained inert. Undeterred, she tried again and again, her voice growing more desperate with each attempt. But no matter how many times she chanted, there was no response.
Finally, she let out a heavy sigh and tossed the talisman aside. "Liu Yanyan, what are you doing? You gave up hope long ago. That guy was probably just a fluke."
Disheartened, Liu Yanyan turned to the waiting corpses, ordering them to carry the remains as she walked toward the forest.
At that moment, a drunkard happened to stumble into the graveyard, oblivious to the girl and her undead entourage. He wandered aimlessly, mumbling to himself before sitting by a gravestone.
A few minutes later, a blood-curdling scream shattered the silence, reverberating through the forest: "A GHOST!!!"
The graveyard descended into chaos, the drunken man fainting from terror. Little did he know that this bizarre episode was merely the prelude to something far more extraordinary…
The talisman left behind by Liu Yanyan before her departure suddenly erupted into unexpected sparks. The intricate markings etched in cinnabar on its surface glowed faintly as they burned.
"Hey! Liu Xiaojiang! I even picked out a name for you back then! If you still refuse to answer me, I'll truly, truly be angry this time!"
In the fleeting moments of consciousness, he finally heard the long-awaited call. The familiar, nostalgic power resurfaced, and he, who had been prepared for this moment, seized the opportunity almost instantly. With all his might, he forced open his unbearably heavy eyelids.
It was unclear how long he struggled, but at last, his eyes opened. Though the world before him was still shrouded in darkness, he instinctively knew that this was not the same oppressive blackness he had endured for so long. Gradually, faint sensations returned to his body. He could finally be certain—he had escaped that abyss.
As soon as he regained some strength, he rigidly flailed his limbs, striving to dispel the darkness surrounding him. Driven by instinct, he swam upward with all his might. At last, with a resounding splash, he emerged into a world where he could breathe freely once more.
Amidst the forest, he coughed instinctively, expelling the soil lodged in his chest. After a moment of adjustment, he began to regain control over his stiffened body. Though he still didn't fully understand what had happened, his sense of self slowly returned.
"Liu... Xiaojiang...? That name... it's not so bad after all," he murmured.