Transforming into a stunningly beautiful fox spirit, leaving a scar on the heart of a prodigy.

The wind in front of Lingxiao Palace stopped.

Bai Yin leaned on his knife, blood flowing down the handle and filling the gaps between the white jade floor tiles.

He stared at Tianpeng, his chest heaving violently like a broken bellows.

"Only the ninth day."

Bai Yin held out two fingers, the fingertips still trembling, covered in scabs.

"Master said that one day in heaven is equivalent to one year on earth."

"I spent nine years in the far west."

"According to the rules, it has only been nine days in the heavens."

Bai Yin took a step forward, leaving a bloody mark on the ground with the sole of his foot.

"One more day."

"The festival is tomorrow."

Why?

Bai Yin's voice suddenly rose, his surging anger no longer able to be contained.

Why is nobody here now?

He clearly sensed that the attack was blocked.

That scent that haunted his dreams, that obsession that made him break his bones and start anew, it's still there.

Tianpeng looked at him with a deep gaze.

She didn't say anything, but simply slammed the nine-toothed rake to the ground.

clang.

A sharp crack made Bai Yin's eardrums ache.

"Your master didn't lie to you."

When Tianpeng spoke, his voice was soft, yet every word was like a knife.

Nine years ago, it truly felt like a day in heaven was a year on earth.

"But that was when my master could still maintain the great formation."

Tianpeng raised his head and looked at the gray sky above.

"Three years ago, my master's Dao injury flared up, and the great array that suppressed the flow of time between the two realms shattered."

Bai Yin was stunned.

His hand holding the knife froze in mid-air, and his mind went blank.

Broken?

"From that day on, time flowed together in heaven and on earth."

Tianpeng looked at Bai Yin with a hint of indescribable pity in his eyes.

"While you were sharpening your knife in the far west."

"She was counting the days in the Moon Palace."

"You think you've lived nine years on earth, but only nine days have passed in heaven."

"actually."

Tianpeng paused for a moment, each word like a nail, piercing deeply into Bai Yin's heart.

"She was there, waiting for you for three years and nine days."

Bai Yin swayed.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Three years.

Nine days.

Images from my memory suddenly flooded back.

That day, in the sandstorm of the far west, he met the storyteller rabbit.

The rabbit said it would tell the story to the heavens.

At that time, he pinned his hopes on the power of his vows to communicate with the gods.

It turned out not to be.

It turns out that the time had already been synchronized at that time.

And that Lantern Festival night.

He brandished his sword atop the snow-capped mountain and saw the firework explode in the sky.

He thought it was a distant gaze that transcended time and space.

It turns out that wasn't the case.

That's where she was, at the same time, looking at the same night sky.

She was watching fireworks.

He was practicing with his sword.

He thought there was plenty of time ahead of him.

He thought that once he mastered the sword technique, he could arrive on the tenth day and take her home.

But she waited for three years.

More than a thousand days and nights.

In that Guanghan Palace, so cold it could freeze your bones.

She was all alone, guarding the straw doll, watching the moon outside the window wax and wane, wane and wax again.

What is she thinking?

Are you wondering why that silly tiger hasn't come yet?

Are you wondering if he has forgotten her?

"ah--!!!"

Bai Yin suddenly knelt on the ground.

He grabbed his hair with both hands and let out a piercing roar.

The voice sounded neither like a human nor like a tiger.

Like a wild beast whose heart has been brutally ripped out, uttering its last mournful cry in despair.

"fraud!"

"You're all liars!"

Bai Yin suddenly raised his head, his eyes cracked, and tears of blood streamed down his face.

He grabbed the three-pointed double-edged sword from the ground and charged at Tianpeng like a madman.

"Give her back to me!"

"Give me back those three years!"

boom!

The blade struck the rake.

Bai Yin was thrown backward by the shock, but he bounced up as soon as he landed and charged forward again.

once.

twice.

three times.

He didn't defend himself at all, nor did he care that his wounds were reopening.

He only wanted to kill.

Kill everything in front of you.

Kill this damned time.

"That's enough!"

Tianpeng shouted loudly, and swept his rake across, slamming Bai Yin to the ground.

Bai Yin lay in a pool of blood, still struggling to get up.

His fingernails dug into the floor tiles, broke off, and were covered in blood.

"She's dead."

Tianpeng looked at him and said coldly.

Bai Yin's body stiffened.

He lay there, motionless.

It looked like a dead body.

died.

really dead.

Bai Yin roared.

The voice was filled with despair, like the mournful cry of a wounded beast in the dead of night.

He believed it was a promise made nine days ago.

This became her three years of quiet devotion.

There is nothing more cruel than this.

They mistakenly took three years for nine days.

There will never be another immortal in white robes in the mortal world.

Di Shitian stood at a distance, watching the man kneeling on the ground weeping. He tightened his grip on his sword, but eventually loosened it.

He turned away, not wanting to look anymore.

This cause and effect is too heavy.

It was so heavy that even he, the demon emperor, couldn't carry it.

Tianpeng stepped forward, bent down, and picked up the three-pointed double-edged knife.

The knife is very heavy.

It was stained with Bai Yin's blood and the sand and dust he had picked up in the far west.

"stand up."

Tianpeng handed the knife to Bai Yin.

"Stop howling."

"She left something for you."

Bai Yin's crying stopped abruptly.

He raised his head and looked at Tianpeng with his face covered in blood.

"thing?"

"Um."

Tianpeng pointed in the direction behind Lingxiao Palace.

There stands a solitary palace, hidden deep in the clouds.

"In the Moon Palace."

"Let's go take a look."

"That was the last place she stayed."

Bai Yin grabbed the knife and used it to prop himself up to stand up.

His legs were still shaking, but he was walking very steadily.

He didn't look at Indra, nor at the demon soldiers who surrounded him.

He just kept staring in that direction.

Step by step.

Treading on his own blood, he walked towards the Moon Palace.

Tianpeng followed behind him, keeping a distance of three steps.

The surrounding demon soldiers tried to stop him, but Tianpeng glared at them and stopped them.

The road to the Moon Palace is very long.

Both sides are planted with osmanthus trees.

But all these osmanthus trees have withered and died, their bare branches stretching towards the sky like hands pleading for help.

Bai Yin walked very slowly.

With every step he took, Su Xiaojiu's image would appear in his mind.

The image of her washing her feet in Yunmengze.

The way she slept while holding onto his tail.

She laughed as she called him a "silly tiger."

The images that were once clear have now become blurry.

It was as if it had been blown away by the wind in the sky.

at last.

The palace came into view.

The door was closed tightly.

Most of the vermilion paint on the door had peeled off, revealing the grayish wood underneath.

It's eerily quiet here.

There wasn't even a whisper of wind.

Bai Yin stood in front of the door, raised his hand, and then lowered it.

He didn't dare to push it.

He feared that if he pushed open the door, he would only see an empty void.

"Go in."

Tianpeng stood behind him and said softly.

"She's waiting for you inside."

"I've been waiting for a long time."

Bai Yin took a deep breath.

He reached out and pressed his hand on the door.

squeak-

Jiang Cheng Zi: Old Dreams of the Moon Palace

Nine years have passed, and my soul is chilled by a dream.

Her temples were white as frost, and she shed countless tears.

They mistook three years for nine days.

Even if we were to meet again, we would not recognize each other, our faces covered in dust and our clothes stained with blood.

The Moon Palace is locked in a state of desolation.

The cassia branches are yellow, and the night is not yet over.

Alone in an empty bed, only the scent of old clothes lingers.

Expected to be broken every year, bright moon night, short Matsuoka.