Chapter 665: Mystical Mountains and Rivers

The river before them was vast and boundless, stretching so far that its opposite bank was lost to sight. Suspended at its center within the purple qi was a woman, her features indistinct but bearing an undeniable resemblance to Yangyang.

The young couple exchanged bewildered glances, each scratching their heads.

Since this was a karmic trace—a vision of the past—the figure in the mist was unaware of their presence. Seeing no harm, they moved closer to get a better look.

The woman floated cross-legged above the river, her eyes closed as though in deep meditation. Her resemblance to Yangyang was indeed uncanny. The difference lay in the overwhelming aura she radiated, an immense presence that suggested she could effortlessly defeat a hundred Yangyangs.

Could she be a reincarnation?

A vision such as this one was not the kind to provide unnecessary details, and soon, a streak of light shot toward the scene.

The newcomer was a familiar figure. It was none other than the ancient Azure Dragon. Zhao Changhe had encountered his image at the bottom of the Ancient Sword Lake and later confirmed his death when he lay within the coffin in Beimang. Yet, his presence in historical events loomed large, as befitting someone known as the Human Emperor.

Azure Dragon approached the woman, frowning. “Piaomiao, you seem unusually carefree.”

The woman called Piaomiao opened her eyes. “Why should I be uneasy?”

“The world is changing. Can’t you sense it?”

“You are the human emperor. Protecting the mountains and rivers is your responsibility.”

“...You are the spirit of the mountains and rivers. If the world collapses, it will mean your end as well. How is that not your concern?”

“If it’s not your concern, then why are you here and so worried?”

Azure Dragon was rendered momentarily speechless.

Piaomiao smiled faintly. “Be direct. Why have you come? What do you want from me?”

“I intend to relocate Beimang, make it a secret realm of its own, merging the dragon veins of the mountains and rivers. Even if the world collapses and all life perishes, as long as Beimang remains, I will have a chance to return. And with my revival, so will you. I need your help to achieve this.”

“You...” Piaomiao hesitated, then continued slowly, “While contemplating this plan, did you ever think about Shuanghua, who’s waiting for you at Sword Lake?”

Azure Dragon replied, “I’ll bring her along.”

“No, you will not. You have no intention of taking her. The actions you plan will destabilize the world’s qi veins, something you’ll certainly conceal from the Night Emperor. Shuanghua is his trusted guardian. You do not dare to let her know.”

Azure Dragon said, “Once my work is complete, not even the Night Emperor can interfere.”

Piaomiao didn’t argue the point. Instead, she asked, “And have you considered bringing the people under your rule with you?”

Azure Dragon replied bluntly, “That place can only hold so many.”

Piaomiao sighed softly and said, “People call me the spirit of the mountains and rivers, but they often misunderstand, thinking I am merely the essence of the land. Yet the true essence of the mountains and rivers lies in human civilization. I am not a god of mountains or rivers—I am the spirit of the qi veins of humanity. Even if no one else understands this, how could Your Majesty also fail to?”

Azure Dragon stated coldly, “All I know is that no one wants to die, and neither do you. If you work with me, we will at least have a chance at survival. Why dwell on such details?”

“At the moment, Your Majesty holds dominion over these lands, and I can help you. But know this—things may not turn out as you wish. Instead of seizing control of the qi veins of the land, you may lose it entirely. Not only will you fail to revive, but you may even find your grave plundered. And the ones to do it? It will either be Shuanghua’s successor or the successor of the Night Emperor. I suggest leaving a simple inheritance behind, at least to ensure your body is treated with respect.”

Azure Dragon fell silent, visibly discomfited.

Piaomiao continued, her voice carrying an edge of sorrow. “We are both beings born of the innate spirit of the world, but Your Majesty must be aware that with the collapse of the heavens, there will also emerge symbols of the world’s demise—forces like endless desolation, an inferno that burns the world, or a boiling sea of blood, any of which could take form as a demon god. I have foreseen that the abyss of infernal flames has already taken shape, with the flame of oblivion emanating from within.” She glanced at him and added, “I thought it might be because you couldn’t handle the situation, but now I see that you simply have no intention of dealing with it.”

Azure Dragon retorted dismissively, “If the world is doomed, what meaning do such things have?”

Piaomiao sighed deeply but refrained from further arguments. “Very well, Your Majesty. Call for me when you need my assistance.”

Azure Dragon departed. Piaomiao remained by the river, standing in place for a long time, lost in thought. Finally, she shook her head, loosened her robes, and stepped into the water to bathe.

Zhao Changhe: “?”

Cui Yuanyang: “?”

The scene abruptly shifted, like a film skipping ahead. Whether it was interference from some external force or something else, Zhao Changhe had the sudden urge to grab the blind woman by the collar and demand she stop fast-forwarding. But what he saw next left him speechless.

It was the twilight of the previous era.

Everywhere, scenes of apocalyptic destruction unfolded. Rocks tumbled wildly, the earth fractured, and flames engulfed the sky.

Zhao Changhe recognized this vision. It mirrored the chaos he had seen in Lie’s story, the final moments of a collapsing era.

Piaomiao still stood atop the great river, watching the chaos engulf the world. Suddenly, she raised a delicate hand and pointed somewhere into the distance.

The river beneath her roared to life, surging forth in a torrential flood. The waters poured out, endless and unstoppable, cleansing everything in their path before plunging into the depths of an abyss.

As the river flowed, it began to take on the shape of a sword, growing sharper and deadlier as it coalesced. Finally, the blade shot forward with relentless fury, piercing through space toward an unseen target.

In a cave in the depths of the abyss, lava roared and flames raged, only to be subdued as the water’s misty vapor and purple qi filled the air. The lava cooled and the flames were extinguished.

A burly figure emerged from the cave, his expression one of alarm as he took in the scene. Before he could react, a divine sword broke through the void, crashing down with tremendous force. The blade plunged straight into his chest, pinning him against the cavern wall.

This single strike drained the river almost entirely. It also left Piaomiao’s form faint and blurred, as though her very existence had begun to wane.

She gazed at her handiwork and murmured softly, “To entrust the future of humanity to a human emperor may have been a mistake—perhaps one day that will inevitably change. I shall divide myself into four swords, embodying the will of the mountains and rivers, to be wielded by future heroes. These swords shall protect the land while also keeping the power of future emperors in check. This sword, embodying boundless righteousness, purging all darkness and evil, shall be named Qinghe.”

The man impaled by the divine sword looked down at it, his expression one of utter disbelief. Shaking his head, he spoke, “Killing me accomplishes nothing. I am merely the manifestation of the flame of oblivion. Even if you destroy me, this world is doomed to perish.”

Despite being across a divide between realms, his voice still reached Piaomiao’s ears. She responded in a low voice, “I’m helping someone. Together, we will protect the mortal realm.”

“You won’t succeed...” the man sneered. “The death of the Heavenly Dao wasn’t meant to lead to the collapse of the world. This state of ruin came because, in its dying moments, even the Heavenly Dao deemed this world unworthy. You’ll soon realize how laughable it is to protect this world.”

Piaomiao’s response was calm, “Perhaps.”

As if to confirm the man’s words, not long after their exchange had ended and Piaomiao had split her essence to forge the four divine swords of the mountains and rivers, a spectral demonic hand descended from the heavens, striking her with terrifying force.

Piaomiao’s eyes widened in disbelief. “It’s you...”

The woman had always maintained an air of serenity, yet now, in her final moments, she displayed a flicker of venomous resentment. “You won’t be able to consume my spirit. A fragment of my true spirit will reincarnate into the mortal realm. As long as humanity endures, someday my great vengeance will be carried out... even if by then... I am no longer myself.”

The vision ended.

Zhao Changhe frowned deeply, his thoughts racing.

Cui Yuanyang, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, looked utterly stunned.

The vision had not revealed the identity of the attacker. Whether it was interference or simply left ambiguous, the spectral hand gave no clues about its origin. All they could discern was that Piaomiao had recognized the attacker and had been shocked by them killing her.

There had long been speculation about whether Zhao Changhe might be the reincarnation of the Night Emperor, confirming that reincarnation existed as a concept. However, no one had ever encountered a clear instance—until now. It seemed likely that Yangyang was in fact the reincarnation of Piaomiao, the spirit of the qi veins of humanity and the mountains and rivers.

The similarities were striking, from her physical appearance to her connection with Qinghe. The reason she was not exactly identical in appearance was likely that she was born naturally to human parents, inheriting most of her features from them. It was enough to suggest her lineage but not a perfect replication.

Piaomiao’s final words also hinted that her reincarnation would not involve the overwriting of personalities or memories. At most, it might lead to the awakening of past memories, but it would not turn Yangyang into a completely different person. Still, the implications were staggering. Even if Yangyang chose to ignore this legacy and live a simple life, the weight of this karma would inevitably find her.

And what would happen if the one who had struck Piaomiao down was still alive and encountered Yangyang?

The resemblance alone might spark recognition, and with Yangyang inheriting the intent of the Qinghe Sword, could she truly avoid such karma?

Moreover, Piaomiao’s final moments and her cryptic final words hinted at a vast conspiracy behind the collapse of the era. It was not simply due to the death of the Heavenly Dao, as many believed. Unraveling this thread seemed to hinge on Yangyang, whether she liked it or not.

As their consciousness withdrew from the Qinghe Sword, Cui Yuanyang stared at Zhao Changhe, dazed and overwhelmed. Her wide eyes swirled in confusion as she stammered, “I... I just came to observe the sword’s intent. How did it turn into this?”