These affairs had long since been drowned out in the cycles of life and death, why had they been rifled out and turned into this burden? And why Xiao Fuxuan?

Just because he blocked that heavenly strike?

An incident that beset his mind all those years, just to be exploited like this… it’s really unreasonable.

Wu Xingxue thought.

Best if Xiao Fuxuan didn’t remember this night.

The moment he came up with such a thought, he felt a momentary sense of deja vu. It was likely that centuries before, he’d also had such a thought.

He not only hoped that Xiao Fuxuan wouldn’t remember, but he even hoped that these bound spirits would also forget this moment.

Spirits weren’t living humans, and wouldn’t make a distinction between the machinations of this or that lifetime. Under someone’s deliberate exploitation, all that remained of them was instinct—whoever had killed them, whoever brought about their present pain, was the one they hated.

"It’s you!"

"It’s you!"

"You made me suffer…"

"You just chopped off my hand!"

Immersed in suffering and hatred, the spirits shrieked out and put their all into rushing at Xiao Fuxuan.

Before, they’d attempted to ambush them, and had their arms cut off by Xiao Fuxuan. Now, in the thick of their hatred, they suddenly regained vitality, and the pale flesh-colored arms stretched out from the stumps like madly growing willow branches, densely, continuously stretching toward that one person.

With that momentum, even if their arms were cut off again, they’d grow back.

Cutting and then growing, growing and then cutting, and their hatred would grow ever deeper, and the whole thing would keep on cycling back endlessly until they spent all their energy and died in this place.

Better to just forget.

At the critical moment, Wu Xingxue subconsciously felt for his waist.

The instant his fingers made contact with the white jade dream bell, he came back to himself; right now the dream bell was cracked. Moreover, he’d forgotten how to use it.

Suddenly!

The faint ringing of a bell echoed out from an indeterminate place, but enveloped the entire forbidden ground.

In a split second, all the smoke in the forbidden ground stopped in place, no longer circulating.

Those spirits also froze all of a sudden, fixing their postures toward Xiao Fuxuan in the dust and smoke. Those fleshy, vine-like arms stopped madly growing, just a hair away from Xiao Fuxuan.

And Xiao Fuxuan paused in his sword-lifting action. He abruptly turned his head to look over at Wu Xingxue.

"Did you ring the bell?" Xiao Fuxuan gaped at Wu Xingxue’s waist.

Wu Xingxue was also a little confused: "I didn’t."

That white jade bell of his was still hanging silently at his waist, cracks still present. The sound wasn’t coming from it, but it sounded just like the dream bell.

Where could it be? Who did it?

Wu Xingxue carefully listened to the ringing, trying to find its source. But, because he listened too carefully, he was affected by the ringing, and was momentarily drawn into a stupor. For a time, he even remembered Que City.

He promptly wrestled free and lifted his head again. The thousands of spirits looked at their own long arms, then looked at Xiao Fuxuan with bewilderment all over their faces. Slowly, they drew their arms back in.

"How did my arms get so long?"

"Mine too, so strange."

"What was I just doing?" "

"Dunno, I’m a little out of it too.

"Who are you two?!"

"This is forbidden ground, how did you come in?"

Those spirits gradually turned their heads back around to look at Xiao Fuxuan and Wu Xingxue as though they’d never seen them before, and spoke menacingly: "This place is sealed off with layer upon layer of blade arrays, fire arrays, and eighty-one bolts of Ninth Heaven’s mystic lightning, you guys really have the nerve?"

Wu Xingxue: "……"

They’d sure forgotten quick. With this kind of efficacy, it indeed must be the dream bell.

He suddenly recalled when they’d just entered the inn, he’d seen a white jade bell hanging above the counter that looked a lot like the dream bell.

Immediately after, he recalled another scene within the ringing—

He recalled himself lifting that little white jade bell, handing it to that baggy-eyed innkeeper, and saying: "I heard the innkeeper always had trouble sleeping through the night. Here, take this little trinket."

The innkeeper took the bell, both feeling embarrassed and suspicious: "Is young master a cultivator? Is this bell… some kind of magical treasure?"

"I happen to have some connections with cultivators and learned some methods. Whether this can be considered a magical treasure, I’m not sure, but it should have some use ""What sort of use?"

He thought it over, and pulled a vague smile: "It can… ward off devils and evil spirits, and maintain peace and security.”

The innkeeper still had his suspicions, but it’s always good to have something that could more or less "maintain peace and security"; hence, he hung that jade bell beside the inn’s front counter.

……

Wu Xingxue suddenly came back to himself.

The reason why he’d previously noted that this inn was fishy was because of the simplified version of the dream bell hanging at its door. At the time he’d still been confused about where the dream bell had come from.

Thinking about it now, perhaps his former self of centuries ago had stayed here a night, and upon discovering the state of the forbidden ground, was momentarily unable to think of a reliable way to handle it, but was worried that the spirits would be exploited by someone again and recall their past hatred, causing disasters on end. So he left a thing much like the dream bell in the inn to quell the spirits’ restlessness.

But after all, it wasn’t a real dream bell, and didn’t seem to require immortal power to ring it. It was more like, whenever the spirits got riled up, then it would react.

The ringing of the bell was also most effective on the spirits. To people like him or Xiao Fuxuan, it wouldn’t take such an instantaneous effect.

But he’d still be influenced; amidst the ringing, his brain grew a bit foggy.

"Just a little trinket, yet so very formidable…"Wu Xingxue muttered as he lifted the little bell at his waist. After his muttering, he looked up at Xiao Fuxuan. However, the other was standing in place with eyes lowered, listening to the bell ringing and furrowing his brows in a daze.

After a while, Xiao Fuxuan lifted a hand to touch his lips.

Wu Xingxue: "?"

He wasn’t entirely sure why, but just as he was about to ask, he saw Xiao Fuxuan suddenly raising his eyes to look at him. He narrowed his eyes, though it was unclear what he’d recalled.

Wu Xingxue inexplicably felt a bit guilty, and swallowed his question back down.

Being stared at by the other, a guess abruptly flashed across—He suspected that on hearing this ringing, he might have recalled how he’d relaxed his guard and had his memories altered by the dream bell some centuries ago.

As for why he’d touched his lips…

Hmm…

However, Wu Xingxue couldn’t keep on thinking, because the ringing hadn’t stopped all this time, and didn’t only have an effect on the spirits, but even deepened his own muddle-headedness. If he stayed here in the ringing any longer, he’d probably go back to having his mouth all full of “Que City."

"Shall we abscond—" Before Wu Xingxue’s words could land, he sensed a tall figure flashing before him.

He was picked up and fell into the Tianxiu Immortal’s aura.

Then, his eyes went dim and the ground disappeared underfoot as he was carried across this swath of forbidden ground.

The instant they crossed the forbidden ground’s threshold, Xiao Fuxuan’s voice sounded before the tip of his nose: "I had been wondering how I’d lowered my guard and allowed someone to alter my memory back then."

His breath nearly landed between Wu Xingxue’s lips, tickling a bit. Wu Xingxue pursed his lips as he heard Xiao Fuxuan whisper: "You plotted against me."

I…

Wu Xingxue licked his lips, wanting to open his mouth, but the view before his eyes abruptly brightened—they’d made their escape from the forbidden ground.

The first people they saw upon exiting the forbidden ground were those Feng Sect disciples. Each one gripped a longsword in hand, complexions tense as they guarded the threshold. They looked like they wanted to enter, but didn’t dare charge rashly in.

Watching their bearings and expressions, Wu Xingxue suddenly recalled something: If Flling Flower Mountain Market’s people were all bound and kept aging over and over for a hundred or so years, then immortals like his former self or Xiao Fuxuan who only occasionally descended to the mortal realm would indeed find it hard to tell, and the handful of real mortals who came annually for the excitement would also find it difficult to tell. But, there was a group of people for whom that wouldn’t be so…

None other than the Feng Sect.

Feng Sect’s disciples looked after all of Falling Flower Terrace. Every single time this place encountered an accident, they’d be invited. After several times, they must have grown quite familiar with the mountain market people, and must have also recognized the manifestation of their different ages.

Three to five years would be fine, but after long, how could they not notice the clues? If they noticed the clues but played along like everything was fine, it’d be a bit off.

Looking at it like this, Feng Sect evidently had a problem.

If they knew a little something, was it due to them helping cover it up for some reason? Or had they directly participated in it?

The real ones connected to it must inevitably have been those leaders of Feng Sect, not the small disciples. Only… how might he and Xiao Fuxuan turn these young junior disciples before them into the Feng Sect leaders?

The Devil Lord came up with an idea.

"Xiao Fuxuan." Using his convenient posture, he whispered into the Tianxiu Immortal’s ear: "Can you tie up this gang of brats in front?"

Xiao Fuxuan: "……"

***

Ning Huaishan didn’t expect that he’d fall into a curse upon entering the city gates. He’d even less expected that he’d actually get lost in this Falling Flower Mountain Market illusion realm, unable to find either his city lord or Fang Chu.

As he searched through the market, he self-deprecatingly thought: If the first person I find is the Tianxiu Immortal, what the hell am I supposed to do? Would turning tail and running look too chicken?

May heaven watch over me and the city lord bless me, don’t let me run into the Tianxiu Immortal alone.

Ning Huaishan prayed all right, but heaven wouldn’t countenance him…

He didn’t run into Xiao Fuxuan; he ran into Yi Wusheng.

It was in the shop selling rouges and powders, and who knew how many things had been knocked over, to perfume the lesser part of the street with rouge. Ning Huaishan sneezed ten times, and nearly sneezed his whole head out.But in just the time it took to turn his head and wipe his nose, upon turning back, he saw Yi Wusheng.

He saw that person with cloth covering half his face, his eyes and brows exposing a somewhat pallid, sickly air, rather like that of a frail scholar. He didn’t look the least bit like a famous, accoladed figure from a large sect.

Ning Huaishan curled his lips.

Originally, Yi Wusheng wouldn’t have noticed that there was someone in the corner, but that string of sneezes drew him over.

He was startled and momentarily awkward upon seeing Ning Huaishan, but it swiftly disappeared. He said: "Well, I found one person."

His tone sounded rather delighted.

Ning Huaishan sneered inside, thinking to himself, how are you still here? Your fragment soul might even outlive me.

He very much wanted to mock him to his face, but kept on sneezing incessantly, somewhat stymieing his fiendish air.

Seeing his state, Yi Wusheng began fishing in his medicine bag.

Covering his nose, Ning Huaishan spoke in a muffled voice: "Don’t, don’t take it out, I don’t want it! I’m not even sick, what kind of medicine would I take? All I am is being fumigated alive…"

Yi Wusheng found a pill: "My sect’s home remedy melanges are too numerous to count. They’re not just for sickness, we also have the means to stop allergies. If you take it it’ll stop, just try."

Ning Huaishan did not want to try.

But his sneezing was indeed getting ever more violent, and if it went on like this his tears and snot would be flying about everywhere. He was a devil, and couldn’t afford to lose face in front of him.

Thus, he reluctantly took the pill and swallowed it down.

Just as he was knocking it back, he heard a commotion from the market before him, along with a clatter of footsteps. It seemed like quite a few people.

While Ning Huaishan peeped over, he asked Yi Wusheng: "Have you seen my City Lord? And Fang Chu. I’ve been looking for them for a while. Logically I shouldn’t have though. Clearly we’ve been walking around Falling Flower Terrace the whole time, and no matter how you enter an illusion realm, once you’re all separated, you won’t be able to find anyone…"

Yi Wusheng shook his head: "I haven’t seen them; I’ve also been looking. At first, I’d intended to draw up a search talisman, but I was somewhat interrupted.”

The paper he held to talk was hidden in his sleeve. At first, it sounded like he could talk normally, no different from living people.

Those footsteps sounded hurried, getting closer and closer.

Ning Huaishan poked his head out to look, muttering: "Doesn’t sound like they’re taking a stroll through the mountain market…"

"It’s the Feng Sect’s people," Yi Wusheng replied, "I was just coming from over there and saw a big group of Feng Sect disciples. Their complexions were unflappable, I don’t know what they were about to do."

The Hua Sect had a good relationship with the Feng Sect, but these Feng Sect disciples weren’t any he’d ever come across. Much like the people in this Falling Flower Mountain Market illusion realm, they must have been from centuries before.

As he spoke, a group of people wearing sect uniforms came over.

The one in front was a man of indeterminate age. His appearance was actually brightly handsome, but there was a certain senescence evident deep in his complexion.

As a devil, Ning Huaishan was most sensitive to the scent of blood. He pricked his nose to sniff a few times and looked at that man’s hand, at which point he discovered a few traces of blood snaking across the back of the man’s hand gripping his sword, as though he’d just encountered something unpleasant and sustained injuries.

The man raised his head to look at the inn next to the rouge shop. Cold-faced, he asked the person next to him: "Shulan, did the distress talisman you received really come from this place?"

The one called Shulan was a tall woman with two swords at her waist. Her face was quite beautiful, with naturally smiling lips. But, the words she spoke carried no trace of a smile: "There is no mistake. Were it not this inn, I would certainly not have gone to trouble you."

When this woman’s name was spoken, Yi Wusheng was very slightly surprised.

Ning Huaishan shot him a glance: "What is it? You recognize her?"

Yi Wusheng said: ‘That’s… Feng Sect’s former Sect Leader, Feng Shulan. Of course, she’s long since passed away."

Evidently, the Feng Shulan before them now wasn’t yet Feng Sect’s top figure. Like the other people in the illusion realm, she must have been from centuries before.

The man in the lead then asked: "Did the distress talisman say who tied them?"

Shulan hesitated a moment, then replied: "It did."

The man asked in a deep voice, "Who?"

Shulan: "…"

The man impatiently turned to look at her: "What’s all this hesitation? They’re besieged by cultivators. Mere devils or evil creatures, with the devilish entities running rampant these years, what haven’t we encountered? Is there really such a need to be like this?”

Shulan thought it over, then said softly: "…It wasn’t a devil."

The man: Then what was it?

Shulan: "They said it was the Tianxiu Immortal Xiao Fuxuan.”

The man: "…"

Who???

Hearing that title, Ning Huaishan was happy at first. Then, he turned tail, about to run—Without his city lord present, first finding Tianxiu would not turn out pretty.

Just as he was about to slip away, pretending not to have heard this immortal’s name—he felt a transparent stream of internal energy sweeping out from within the inn. The internal energy was like a long, invisible whip, lashing everyone inward without warning and with a burst of sharp pain.

The next moment, that golden sword aura turned into long ropes of mystic thunder, firmly tying up the people who’d been hurrying toward the inn’s doorway. With a thuggish air worthy of the wicked devil’s path, it rapidly dragged them into the inn.

Ning Huaishan and Yi Wusheng had the misfortune of being too close to the Feng Sect group, and were tied up along with them.

As Ning Huaishan was tugged in, his face was suspended full of question marks: How is this Tianxiu’s conduct so “un-immortal-like”?!

Author’s notes: Some bad influences slipped in.

Fanart for this chapter: https://m.weibo.cn/status/4736747311464511