One of the figures hesitated, glanced around, then cautiously stepped forward.
“What happened to me?” she asked.
Its voice carried smug satisfaction. “You lost. You all lost.”
“Why can’t my friends move?”
“No, no. They’re just like you.”
Just like her?
Confusion flickered—then sudden understanding.
They weren’t frozen. They were likely in illusions of their own—just like she was. In Luo Ren’s world, she and Hongsha had once gone cold and still, too.
All five of them were in illusions. Perhaps only the fortune-teller remained in the real world.
She softened her tone. “How could we have lost?”
She had realized that if she was forceful, they retreated in fear. Better to appear gentle.
The figure sounded even more pleased. “Your strength is too small.”
Her voice trembled, on the verge of tears. “If we seal it while alive, isn’t that the same?”
Her master, Mei Hua Jiu Niang, had once taught her: if there’s no other way—cry.
The other figures whispered:
“She’s scared.”
“She’s going to cry.”
The figure replied, “How could it be the same? Evil thoughts and resentment accumulate over time—like what you just saw—from different people, different eras. The power of a new Phoenix Luan Buckle must merge with the power of those before it to form a new binding force.”
Mu Dai understood.
All power was cumulative. Mei Hua and Zhao’s sacrifice had merged with the previous Phoenix Luan Buckles. But this time, the five of them were alive. Their power might seal this cycle of evil—but not all the accumulated cycles before it.
The disparity was too great. The seven vicious bamboo slips entered them, and they quickly fell, cast into this strange realm.
“Where is this?”
The figures burst into exaggerated laughter.
“She doesn’t know!”
“Tell her, tell her—they’re finished.”
The figure circled her gleefully. “In that world, you lost. You’re like wood. Like statues. You’ll never wake up.”
“And here, you’ve lost too. You’re sent back to the starting point. Understand? That’s why you’re separated from your friends—because at the beginning of life, none of you know each other.”
Mu Dai felt dazed. “What do you mean… don’t know each other?”
The figure laughed harshly. “Look.”
Snowflake-like images swirled around her.
She saw Luo Ren holding Pinyi, smiling warmly.
She saw Cao Yanhua in an apron, plucking feathers from Cao Jiefang while Cao Jinhua assisted.
She saw Yan Hongsha blushing as a handsome boy handed her roses.
She saw Wan San running an auto repair shop, laughing with a female customer.
She saw herself in a white wedding gown, zipper undone, as a stranger zipped it up.
Her head felt like it would explode. She screamed, “What the hell is this?”
“Don’t you understand?” the figure said lightly.
“Life is like a chaotic starry sky. There’s no order. No destiny. A slight shift changes everything.”
“You’ve been sent back to the beginning. Your life has ten thousand possibilities. Luo Ren never meets you—so he never loves you. Your friends never cross your path. You don’t know Cao Yanhua. Wan San doesn’t know Yan Hongsha.”
Was that true?
The images kept shifting. She saw herself in a delivery room. The stranger held a newborn baby and smiled at her, bottle in hand.
Mu Dai suddenly burst into tears. “I don’t want to have his child!”
She didn’t want this damn beginning. Not these ten thousand possibilities. Not this man.
The shadowy figures gathered around, flustered.
“She’s crying again.”
“What do we do?”
“Too late. She has to accept it.”
Amid the noise, a small voice said, “Well… actually, maybe…”
Immediately, someone cut it off harshly. “No! Don’t say it!”
Mu Dai looked up sharply. “Who said that?”
They retreated, shrinking back.
“There’s a way, isn’t there?” she pressed. “This isn’t a dead end. There has to be a path. If not forward or back, then above or below. Tell me!”
No one answered.
Her hope turned to anger. She reached for stones—none.
Now she understood why people in dramas threw shoes when furious.
She pulled both shoes off and hurled them with precision this time, hitting two figures. They howled.
It felt satisfying.
“You liars!” she shouted. “You’re the star slips—killing, harming, deceiving, spouting nonsense. I don’t believe there’s no way! You’ve been arrogant from start to finish. Is the Phoenix Luan Buckle dead? Is it dead?”
A thunderous roar.
Blazing heat flooded heaven and earth. Mu Dai turned, forced back by a wave of scorching air. Her lips dried and cracked from the heat.
But she didn’t close her eyes.
She saw the three phoenix peaks spewing flames, turning the valley into a sea of fire. The light of the Big Dipper dimmed before the crimson blaze.
And where the valley should have been, rising tall—
was a massive Guansi Archway.
On the face directly before her, carved in ancient seal script on the lintel—
was the character “Mu.”
Meow meow On TPH Chapter 26.1