A Fleeting Life, Lodged in a Dream Within a Dream, Part 3

The Heaven-Illuminating Mirror, originally called the Demon-Revealing Mirror, was placed above the gate of the Fate Palace’s forbidden grounds to inspect and warn against passing demons and monsters.

Legend held it guarded two ancient divine artifacts within the main palace.

Its ability to foretell immortal and demonic fates was merely a secondary function.

This was Yun Yao’s first time in the forbidden grounds and her first encounter with the mirror.

For some unknown reason, it seemed to hold an inexplicable affinity toward her.

Yun Yao considered the vision she saw in the mirror but decided to dismiss it—it must have been mistaken. T

hat Demon Lord was heartless by nature; not only was the mirror’s prophecy unlikely, but how could he ever feel even a trace of pity for her?

With a self-mocking smile, she pressed the mirror to her wrist.

The Wheel of Reincarnation’s mark glowed, a stream of light enveloping the mirror. When it faded, the mirror vanished from her hand.
It had likely been absorbed into the Wheel.

As expected, all her uniqueness and “luck” stemmed from being the Wheel’s chosen sacrifice.

With a helpless smile, she walked toward the palace’s inner halls.
Crossing the central gate, she felt her last shred of energy drain away, too exhausted to go further.

…Just a short rest, that’s all.

The little fairy leaned against the heavy, ancient gate, closing her eyes. Her unconscious body could no longer hold, sliding slowly down the gnarled carvings.

Before she hit the ground, a flash of black appeared.

The blood-soaked fairy was caught in his arms. His snow-white hair was swept aside by the wind, revealing a sharp, cold profile.

His jaw was clenched tight, his eyes icy, as if suppressing violent rage.

But those emotions dissolved the moment he looked down at the sleeping face in his arms.

Mu Hanyuan crossed the gate, ignoring the killing intent, gazes, and fear directed at him, and strode into the Fate Palace’s main hall.

Behind them, the heavy gates slammed shut, sealing the immortal realm outside.

—

Perhaps due to overusing her immortal energy and the divine artifact’s power in the battle at the forbidden grounds, Yun Yao fell into a haze of intermittent dreams and waking.

Even when awake, she was frail, often too weak to leave her courtyard.

Her life force waned with each passing day.

Alongside this, the Wheel’s aura grew stronger, as did Mu Hanyuan’s increasingly volatile temper.

*Bang.*
A bowl of foul-smelling, translucent jade broth was slammed onto the table beside Yun Yao’s couch.
Despite the force, not a drop spilled.

“Drink it all.”

Barely awake for half an incense stick, Yun Yao nearly fainted again from the stench.

“I won’t drink it.” Pinching her nose, she turned away on the couch. “I’d rather die than drink this. Who knows what vile stuff you got this from…”

Mu Hanyuan’s chest heaved, his eyes suppressing rage. “The Green Wood old man brewed it. If you doubt it, shall I break his limbs and have him make it in front of you to ease your mind?”
He turned to leave.

“No—!”

Yun Yao scrambled up, barely grabbing his sleeve to stop him.

He glanced down, his piercing gaze landing on the frail, almost emaciated hand of the fairy leaning from the couch.
His eyes darkened, his killing intent intensifying.

Even Yun Yao noticed, sheepishly retracting her hand under the quilt. “Uh, Green Wood Divine Lord’s cultivation wasn’t easy. Don’t keep tormenting just one divine lord.”

“If he weren’t the best at immortal medicine, you think I’d bother with him?” Mu Hanyuan returned to the couch, speaking coldly as he picked up the bowl. “Drink it. Not a drop left.”

“No, I’d rather die—”

Before she could finish, he ruthlessly pried open her jaw. With a flick of his fingers, the nauseating brown broth turned into a stream, pouring into her mouth.

“Mmph mmph mmph!!!”

Yun Yao flailed, struggling desperately, clawing and hitting, but as always, she was effortlessly subdued.
The last drop of broth was forced down her throat.

He withdrew his hand, glancing coldly. “Taste good?”

“…You demon, just wait! When Saint Origin returns, they’ll strike you with heavenly thunder and pierce you with ten thousand swords!!”
Yun Yao raged helplessly.

Seeing her muster enough energy to snap at him, Mu Hanyuan’s lips curved faintly for the first time in days.

“Open your mouth.”

She froze, panicking. “No way, not again, I’ll die before I—”

He repeated the move.
Yun Yao glared, puffing her cheeks, but as her mouth closed, she tasted…

“Sweet?” She blinked, surprised. “Is this the mortal candy from storybooks?”

“Mm.”
He swept his sleeve, sitting beside the couch.
Helping her up, he pressed a hand to her back, channeling stored spiritual energy into her body.

The immortal realm shouldn’t have candy. Crossing the immortal-mortal divide was harder than ascending, fraught with tribulation thunder. How had a demon evaded it?

As she pondered, a warm energy flowed from her back.
She paused, then gritted her teeth. “So much immortal energy… who’d you harm this time?”

“Theirs was too impure. You wouldn’t let me kill them, and drawing a bit was useless. So I fought Calamity and took some of his.”

“?”
Yun Yao whipped around. “???”

“What are you looking at? Focus on circulating it,” he said coldly, turning her head back.

“No wonder you reeked of blood when you came in. I thought you’d done something bad…” She paused, then laughed. “Did you fight him, or get beaten? His energy—you tricked it out of him, didn’t you?”

“…”

Mu Hanyuan’s face was expressionless, but he suddenly applied force.

“Ow!”
The surge of energy stung, and Yun Yao bit her lip, mentally flaying the demon a thousand times.

Yet in that warm, drowsy energy, she recalled something. “Wait… your demonic aura… immortal energy shouldn’t mix with it, it’d harm you… how’d you bring it back…”

He lowered his gaze, sneering. “You’re half-dead yourself, yet you worry about others. Did Saint Origin choose you as a sacrifice because you’re as foolish as them?”

“…”

Before, she’d have snapped back.
But now, her consciousness was too weak. Even while circulating energy, she drifted off without realizing.

Mu Hanyuan’s gaze darkened, his killing intent surging but suppressed once more.

For his master…
The Wheel *must* awaken.

—

The immortal energy borrowed from Calamity circulated through Yun Yao’s meridians but lasted only two days before the Wheel absorbed it.

The fairy wilted again, listless, either sleeping or drowsily leaning on the couch.
Today was no different.

Mu Hanyuan sat by her side, grudgingly reading her embarrassing mortal storybooks. Turning briefly, he found her dozing against a bedpost.
He quickly raised his sleeve to cushion her head.

Though she still bumped his hand, she stirred, blinking groggily. “Mm? Which volume are we at?”

He lowered his hand discreetly, his eyelid twitching. “No more sleeping.”

Her voice was weak. “It’s not like I can control it…”

“Why not.”

“…”

The drowsy fairy blinked, then leaned against the post, smiling at him. “Hey, Mu Hanyuan.”

“—”
His heart clenched painfully, and he looked up sharply.
In that moment, the snow-robed fairy seemed to overlap perfectly with the bold, red-clad woman from the mortal realm.

Then she asked, pale-faced but smiling, “Do you want me to live, or your master?”

“…”
His sleeve froze on his knee, fingers clenching tightly.

She waited two breaths, then smiled again, lazily turning. “So, if I die sooner, the Wheel can awaken sooner, and you’ll find her… Isn’t that good?”

He gripped his robe, voice hoarse. “I only fear you won’t last until the Wheel awakens.”

“I shouldn’t… I won’t…”

She closed her eyes, a faint smile on her lips. “I can feel it… it’s about to wake… If you find your master… listen to her… don’t wreak havoc anymore… Or when Saint Origin returns… you’ll… die…”
“Live on… just living… is good… so good…”

“…”

Mu Hanyuan sat rigid, motionless by the couch. Sunlight through the window cast his shadow into gloom, like a solitary mountain standing for eons.

The fairy slept deeply, her breath so faint it was barely audible.

In the silence, he strained to hear her every inhale, exhale, her pulse, her heartbeat.

Life.
Living.
Only in its fleeting moments did what he’d deemed as insignificant as ants feel so weighty.

So… heart-wrenching for gods and demons alike.

After a long time, the mountain slowly crumbled.

In the shadows, a low, barely audible sound slipped through the window’s gap.

—

It was the hundredth day since the demon arrived in the immortal realm.

That morning, Yun Yao woke with sudden vitality. She’d slept so long her mind felt foggy, sitting dazed on the couch before reacting. Smiling, she leapt up and ran outside.

The Fate Palace’s main hall was vast, serene, and beautiful—every detail, every carving, felt tailored to her, delighting her heart.

Mu Hanyuan wasn’t there.

She wandered the palace, picking flowers, catching butterflies, and chasing birds, reveling half the day.
She didn’t find the treasures—legend spoke of two world-shaking artifacts in the palace.

One was likely the Wheel, but the other eluded her. From a mural in the back mountain, she vaguely discerned it was a small tower-like object.

The mural also said these artifacts were not only powerful but could preserve a saint’s soul and spirit, enduring eons of tribulations.

No luck finding it, but Yun Yao wasn’t greedy.
Done playing, she sat on the palace’s threshold, waiting for Mu Hanyuan.

—

Since the demon’s arrival, he’d fought Calamity several times. Though always defeated, he grew stronger each time. Even novice immortals could see that soon, he’d be unmatched in the immortal realm.

The immortals grew anxious.

Fortunately, the demon seemed aimless, spending his days either bullying Green Wood Divine Lord for medicine or challenging Calamity on Yuling Mountain.

As for occupying the Fate Palace’s main hall—each challenger was sent back defeated, and soon, no one dared come.

The immortals bided their time, waiting for the Three Saints to unite and deal with him.

Thus, Primordial Immortal Mountain grew increasingly deserted.

Yun Yao waited until dusk before Mu Hanyuan returned.

His demonic flames appeared, and night seemed to fall in the ever-daylit immortal realm.

The shift of sun and moon was unprecedented, and Yun Yao loved it, standing with a beaming smile, waving. “Mu Hanyuan!”

“—”

His gaze darkened.
Landing, he saw her and thought it a hallucination, but…

“Why are you out?” His voice was cold, a faint rumble of tribulation thunder stirring in the clouds.

As if she hadn’t heard, she said, “I’ve seen the sun and moon. Come see the stars with me.”

“…”
He stared, the demonic mark at his eye tinged blood-red.

Anyone else would’ve fled.
But Yun Yao, hands behind her back, just smiled silently at him.

His heart sank.

No amount of divine medicine or energy could delay fate.
That day had come.

“…Alright.” He took her wrist. “To the mortal realm?”

“Mortal realm?” She blinked. “That’s terrifying—tribulation thunder, heavenly punishment… You’ve been there, haven’t you?”

He didn’t answer, avoiding her gaze. “Where, then?”

“You’re so gentle today, I’m not used to it.”
She rubbed her nose, smiling, and pointed to the Fate Palace’s rear hall, faintly visible through the misty mountains. “There. It has stars.”

“Mm.”

Today, the Demon Lord was unusually compliant, answering every question, his temper saint-like.

Moments later, he brought her to the rear hall’s gate.

“I’ve served here for centuries, and I’m a bit reluctant to leave,” Yun Yao said, stepping inside the quiet hall. “Look, you scared off all the immortals. No one’s left to guard it.”

She walked to rows of wooden shelves.
A silver-white bell lay on a table, used by the hall’s guardians to sound alarms.

With no one around, she picked it up, shaking it by her ear.

Smiling, she said, “So this is its sound. I’ve always wondered but never had a chance to use it. Nothing ever happened… until you came.”
She turned, glaring accusingly. “You broke mine, and you haven’t compensated me.”

“…”

Mu Hanyuan, entering the hall, stood still.
He watched her with a deep, sorrowful gaze she never thought a demon could have.
“I’ll make it up to you.”

“…Forget it.” She blinked, turning back. “This fairy won’t bicker with a demon.”

Setting down the bell, she sat on the floor, leaning against the shelves she’d organized for centuries, looking up at the dome—

Three thousand star lamps glimmered.
Under Mu Hanyuan’s trailing flames, night fell, making the lamps shine like stars in the Milky Way.

“Look, the three thousand lesser worlds. Aren’t they beautiful?”

She leaned on the shelf, asking.

“…”

The hall was as silent as it had been for centuries.
The demon made no sound.

Her lips curved, her voice softening. “Do immortals, after death, go to the lesser worlds?”

“Or turn to clouds, mist, rain, snow… returning to boundless oblivion.”

“Whatever they become, I want to see it.”

In her blurring, dimming vision, she strained to raise her hand toward the lamps.

She saw the darkest, most desolate one, hidden deep.

She remembered it.
The Forsaken Land, Qianyuan.

A whole world’s beings, like all others, had done no wrong. Why were they forsaken?
If only… it could shine too.

With her final wish to pity all beings, her eyes closed.

Her figure against the shelf, as if drained of its last breath, slumped sideways.

A black shadow flashed.
The snow-haired demon knelt, catching her. A blood-tinged tear fell from his jade-like face, landing on her wrist.
The three-petaled golden wheel there blazed, shooting into the endless night of the star lamps—

At that moment, the darkest, deadest lamp of the Forsaken Land flared, outshining the sun and moon, swallowing the night.

Across the Ninth Heaven, the Four Seas, and Eight Deserts, countless immortal mountains and palaces rang with bells and chimes.
Their vast sound cleansed heaven and earth, drowning the demon’s sobs.

In the immortal realm, Saint Calamity’s divine voice resounded—

*[We welcome Saint Origin, soul returned to the immortal court.]*

“…”

In the Fate Palace’s rear hall, the chimes were loudest.
Mu Hanyuan, in his bone-deep grief, looked up, seeing a soul’s shadow within a golden tower among the star lamps.

In ten more breaths, Saint Origin’s soul and spirit, hidden somewhere in Qianyuan, would return.

At the cost of the sacrifice—

In his arms, the fairy’s figure faded, dissolving into countless starlights, merging into the golden butterfly at her brow.
That was Origin’s divine essence, the culprit that sacrificed the Fate Palace’s 372nd maiden to the heavens.

“Origin…”

His voice was a hoarse rasp.

At that moment—

At the hall’s gate, Yun Qiao, drawn by the alarm bell, stumbled in. Her first sight was the lifeless fairy in the supreme demon’s arms.

She fell, crying, “Yun Yao!”

“—”

A thunderous roar pierced the sky.

The snow-haired demon froze under the radiant light of Origin’s return.

*[What’s your name?]*

*[In our immortal realm, only divine lords and high immortals are worthy of renowned titles… Me? I’m ranked 372 among the Fate Palace’s maidens.]*
*[Call me Three-Seven-Two, if you must.]*

*[You shouldn’t… shouldn’t have killed so many…]*

*[Mu Hanyuan! Stop!]*

*[Want me to save you? How pitiful.]*

*[Too bad no one in the immortal realm will save you—I want you dead too.]*

*[…]*

*[Hey, Mu Hanyuan—]*

*[Mu Hanyuan!]*

*[Mu Hanyuan…]*

Her voice echoed in his ears.

His trembling eyes shattered, looking down in disbelief at his arms:

“Master…?”

*Clang.*

The last trace of her shadow vanished.
The three-petaled golden wheel fell onto the steps before him.