Tracing back to 1230

that actually, the mind-altering soup is like alcohol.However, the inside has all the flavors: sweet, sour, bitter, salty, just like the complex emotions of life.Then a cup of intoxicating wine went...Two "he's" were mentioned in the words of the shaman.

One refers to Mu Wanchen's words, and the other is who

This seems to be the reason why the witch is very indulgent towards Mu Wanchen and wants him to stay here.

So, am I going to be trapped here

At that time, I felt my abdomen contracting rapidly and painfully. This must be a sign of labor, right Then, I heard Mu Wanchen's urgent calls, and after that... it seemed like my consciousness blurred.

When consciousness returned, it was already like this.

Mu Wanchen couldn't see me.

No, it's not that we can't see each other, it's more like we exist in completely different spaces. We are like people from two separate worlds with no intersection at all.

My body is like a house, and the house has collapsed. The seven souls have scattered, and the three souls have no place to rely on. I should be in a daze, shouldn't I

Why could I still have a clear consciousness, still see the trace of forbearance in Mu Wanchen's eyes, and still feel the pain I could see but not touch.

"...Am I dead now" I dazedly asked the surrounding air.

Although it was a small courtyard nestled on a hillside, it seemed like an empty and boundless wilderness.

The witch's voice held an indescribable, otherworldly charm, ethereal and wavering like clouds drifting in the night.

"Who is he How long do you intend to keep Mu Wanchen trapped here"

"You're asking too many questions..." the Shaman's voice whispered into my ear.

I could seem to find the direction her voice was coming from, and I stealthily pricked up my ears to listen carefully.

“Because you all are shrouded in mystery, never saying anything clearly. It's the same with those witches in the world, their words are always evasive. Who knows what you're really thinking! And who knows what games you're playing!” I shouted loudly, hoping to get the witch to say more.

She let out a cold laugh, as if mocking me, or perhaps even the "witches of the world" I had just spoken of.

Following the sound of laughter, I saw from outside the small courtyard gate across the mountain valley. There was a winding bluestone path, with trees swaying on both sides, their branches gently shaking like pennants beckoning souls.

The path winds through the dense foliage...deep within the stone-paved pathway, it seemed as if some unseen force was manipulating the air currents. The branches of the ethereal willow trees swayed gently in my direction as if beckoning me closer.

If this mountain were a woman's head, these trees would be like the hair on her temples.

Fine and broken, dense and numerous, they seemed to come alive in the night wind and swirl around me.

I walked forward against the direction the wind was blowing, talking to the shaman as I went, trying to locate the source of the sound.

"...You people are just too fond of mysticism, which is why you let ordinary folks learn a little bit about witchcraft and sorcery, then flaunt it to deceive others. If you were to establish a proper sect and pass it down through generations, perhaps there would be fewer harmful deviant practices in the world..."

I carefully avoided those branches that looked like summoning banners, but now... I looked down at myself. I guess this is what a soul looks like Branches could poke me, and I wouldn't feel a thing.

The only feeling I had was heartache.

As I knelt beside the bed and looked at the infant, my eyes were about to burst with tears, but I couldn't reach out.

This feeling is too painful, why are some ghosts unwilling to leave Watching loved ones in misery and sorrow, while I can only stare helplessly, unable to hug or kiss.

It's too painful that I can't convey my feelings with body temperature.

I would rather die without any feeling than to live like this, seeing Mu Wanchen and the child, but they are oblivious to me.

Perhaps because of this feeling of ashes to ashes, I'm looking forward to seeing the end of myself.

A suicidal mindset drove me deeper into the opposite mountain valley along the stone path.

Not until the starry night wind had vanished, leaving only a hazy scene, did I see the source of the sound.

A ball of white light hung in the air, a massive and ancient throne stood behind me.

A wispy figure sat upon the throne, one hand stroking its chin, its voice echoing with a melodious yet distant sound.

You should read more, little girl.

"What do you want from me" I wanted to walk towards the throne, but no matter how I tried, the distance seemed insurmountable.

What kind of mysterious magic is this I stopped in my tracks and stood before the throne, shouting, "You want me to look at Mu Wanchen"

No.

That voice held a hint of mournful laughter: "You are too young, too naive and innocent… you don't yet understand what the heart demon is."

All practice requires dispelling the demons brought by the seven emotions and six desires. Mu Wanchen was still as calm as water before meeting you, but after meeting you, he became hesitant and preoccupied, which is detrimental to his cultivation.

“His hesitation isn't just because of me, I’m not taking the blame for this, okay” I frowned. “Don’t think you can pin the blame on me just because I’m young and inexperienced… His hesitation comes from the hardship he faces in surviving within your tribe's responsibilities and beliefs.”

“They are tasked with passing it down, yet it remains a secret tradition. Through the ages, every great shaman king has strived to ensure that the secrets of sorcery are inherited, even going so far as using methods like imparting wisdom through spiritual enlightenment to leave nothing out. Besides guarding the Shaman King City and his people, what other emotions or freedom does he have”

“Perhaps the people don’t matter to you. This place is so vast, with so many cities and people. But Mu Wanchen thinks that protecting the people is an account to you all. Since I met him, I haven't seen him truly laugh from the heart. He always seems troubled, lonely, and silent…”

"Well, you guys are something else. You want to find an agent to manage the people and still make him work his tail off for you Come on, let us live our own lives, okay"

I babbled on and on, but the witch didn't move an inch.

Oh, someone like Ling Shan's Ten Witches, how could I possibly persuade them In their eyes, mortals are like ants. This one is the only goddess among Ling Shan's Ten Witches, with a terrible temper and even greater abilities. What ability do I have to persuade her

Well... the only goddess among the Ten Witches of Ling Shan... that is to say, there are nine other witch gods Do none of them care about how willful this Goddess Wu Gui is

My thoughts are laid bare before the witch, and from the direction of the throne comes a low chuckle.

......He used to exhaust his cultivation for a mortal woman and the common people of a country back then. He was reluctant to come to this desolate land.

The resentment and anger in these words are too obvious. The witch refused to let Mu Wanchen leave, but instead of using any coercive means, she seemed rather sincere and persuasive

Could Mo Ran be the reincarnation of the "him" she mentioned

"You're talking about him I wonder... maybe one of the Ten Witches of Ling Shan Ordinary people wouldn't catch your eye, would they" I cleared my throat and switched to polite language.

This must be a grudge from long ago, one careless step could trigger it, I can only probe cautiously.

The witch didn't answer. I waited for a while but there was no sound. The air around me also calmed down considerably. I took a step forward and found that I could move forward.

The oppressive aura around the throne had subsided, as if it were letting me pass

I immediately ran a few steps forward, circling around to the side of the throne. Just as I was about to speak, I saw clearly who was sitting on it.

"Ah!!" I jumped in fright.

Where is there a person here!

Underneath layers of opulent garments, lay a withered corpse.

The corpse, save for hollow, dark eye sockets, had its hair intact. Its skin was black and withered. A single hand rested on the chin, revealing a hand, wrist, and forearm.

On that shriveled, withered skin lay patches of black—just like the hand of an old monster that reached out to grab me!

>o much more capable and confident. He's far more reliable than he was a year ago when we were both stumbling around like half-drunk fools.Dad was squatting on the balcony of the second floor, retracti...