The morning sunlight struggled to pierce through the clouds, casting its rays upon the Ghostly Abyss floor. Those faint beams refracted in the mist, forming hazy columns of light that added a touch of mystery to this silent lan.
Yuyi sat cross-legged on a smooth bluestone, eyes closed, breathing long and evenly. Spiritual power flowed slowly through his eight extraordinary meridians, each cycle repairing the previously injured channels. Since Ziyan began visiting daily, his life had gained some changes, but cultivation remained his primary task.
The mist in the Ghostly Abyss never dispersed year-round. Moist rock walls were covered with moss, lush and green. The air was filled with a faint musty smell and earth scent, mixed with the fresh fragrance of wildflowers, forming a unique aroma. A clear stream gushed from rock crevices, winding through this silent lan, emitting subtle gurgling sounds.
That sound echoed in the vast Ghostly Abyss, exceptionally clear.
"I brought spiritual food and elixir pills." Ziyan's voice came from above, crisp and pleasant, breaking the Ghostly Abyss's tranquility. Immediately, an exquisite food box and a warm jade bottle were carried by her spiritual power, slowly descending before Yuyi.
The food box was carved with delicate patterns, emitting faint spiritual energy. The jade bottle was crystal clear throughout, with subtle light flowing around its mouth—clearly no ordinary item.
Yuyi opened his eyes, looked at the items before him, and frowned slightly: "What are you doing?"
His voice was calm, showing no emotional fluctuation.
"Let's make a deal." Ziyan stood on the high cliff, a hopeful smile on her face—that smile was like flowers blooming in spring, beautiful and brilliant, "I'll bring you spiritual food and elixir pills daily, and in return, you chat with me."
Yuyi fell silent for a moment, his gaze lingering on the food box and jade bottle briefly, then said: "I don't need these things."
His tone was indifferent, yet carried an unquestionable firmness.
"You do need them," Ziyan said, a hint of stubbornness in her voice, "Your injuries have improved greatly, but you still need recuperation. These elixir pills are top-grade from Silver Moon Alliance, very helpful for your recovery."
Her gaze fell upon Yuyi, carrying some concern, some expectation.
Yuyi looked at her, a hint of scrutiny in his eyes. He knew this woman would not give up easily. In these three years, she had come here every month to see him, never interrupting. Her persistence moved him somewhat.
But he could not accept her kindness.
Because he knew he could not give her what she wanted.
"Alright," he finally said, a hint of helplessness in his voice, "But only chatting, nothing else."
A victorious smile appeared on Ziyan's face, that smile carrying some triumph, some satisfaction: "No problem!"
From that day on, Ziyan came to the Ghostly Abyss daily, bringing Yuyi various spiritual foods and elixir pills. She would sit on the high cliff, chatting with him, telling him various interesting stories from the cultivation world, or asking about his past.
She spoke of Silver Moon Alliance anecdotes, of the scheming within the sect, of various rumors in the cultivation world. Her crisp and pleasant voice echoed in the vast Ghostly Abyss, adding vitality to this silent lan.
Most of the time, Yuyi just listened quietly, occasionally saying a few words. His speech was brief and refined, never dragging. But Ziyan didn't mind; she knew that getting him to speak was already significant progress.
As time passed, Yuyi's injuries recovered faster and faster. The elixir pills Ziyan brought were indeed remarkably effective, accelerating his recovery process. His meridians were completely repaired, and the spiritual power within his body was purer than before.
His aura grew increasingly powerful, like a volcano awakening, ready to erupt at any moment.
One day, Ziyan arrived later than usual. Her demeanor was somewhat downcast, a hint of sorrow in her eyes, as if troubled by something.
She stood on the high cliff, remaining silent for a long time, just quietly watching Yuyi.
"What's wrong?" Yuyi asked. Although his tone was indifferent, Ziyan could feel his concern.
Ziyan remained silent for a while, finally speaking, a slight tremor in her voice: "Silver Moon Alliance has decided to marry me to Cangqiongzi."
Yuyi's movement paused slightly, but quickly returned to calm. He continued circulating spiritual power within his body, as if he hadn't heard her words.
"That's good. Cangqiongzi is now a regional elder, promingent in status." His voice was calm, showing no emotional fluctuation.
"But I don't like him," Ziyan said, a tremor and pain in her voice, "I... I like you."
That voice was soft, yet firm, like a stone thrown into a calm lake, stirring ripples in Yuyi's heart.
Yuyi said nothing, just quietly watched her. His eyes were deep as an Ghostly Abyss, making it impossible to see through his thoughts.
"The meeting is the day after tomorrow," Ziyan continued, "They arranged it at a restaurant in Linzhou City for me to meet Cangqiongzi."
"What do you planto do?" Yuyi asked.
Ziyan took a deep breath, her eyes becoming determined: "I've decided to wait for you. When your injuries are fully healed, I'll tell Silver Moon Alliance I won't marry Cangqiongzi."
Her voice carried a kind of resolve, a determingation to go all in for love.
Yuyi shook his head: "You shouldn't do this. We don't belong to the same world."
A hint of bitterness and helplessness was in his voice.
"Why?" A flash of pain crossed Ziyan's eyes, tears welling up, "Is it because you're injured? But your injuries are almost healed!"
"It's not because of that," Yuyi said, his gaze looking into the distance, as if recalling something, "My past, you wouldn't want to understand. It's a path filled with blood and slaughter."
"I don't care about your past!" Ziyan said excitedly, tears finally flowing uncontrollably, "I only care about you now, about who you are!"
Her voice carried a sobbing tone, a heart-rending pain.
Yuyi fell silent for a moment, then said: "You should marry Cangqiongzi. He can give you the life you want, and I cannot."
His voice was soft, yet like a sharp blade, stabbing deeply into Ziyan's heart.
More tears welled up in Ziyan's eyes, her body trembling slightly, as if she might collapse at any moment: "Why are you so cold? In these three years, haven't you felt anything for me at all?"
Yuyi didn't answer, just turned and walked toward the stream. His back appeared exceptionally lonely in the mist, as if isolated from the entire world.
Ziyan stood on the high cliff, watching his departing figure, her heart filled with pain and despair. She knew this man's heart had closed; no one could enter.
That was a wounded heart, a closed heart.
Night fell, and the Ghostly Abyss floor plunged into darkness. Only the stream's sound echoed in the silence, as if telling some ancient story.
Yuyi sat cross-legged again, beginning to cultivate. But this time, his heart could not be calm. Ziyan's words echoed in his mind, making it impossible to concentrate.
"I shouldn't let her have illusions," he muttered to himself, his voice echoing in the vast Ghostly Abyss, carrying some bitterness, "It's unfair to her."
He closed his eyes, trying to enter a cultivation state. But soon, he found himself encountering a bottleneck. The process of breaking through from Nascent Soul Realm to Deity Transformation Realm was far more difficult than he imagined.
Spiritual power circulated through his meridians, each cycle making him feel enormous pressure. Deity Transformation Realm was an important watershed for cultivators. Only by breaking through this realm could one truly enter the ranks of top experts.
But at this moment, he felt his cultivation stalled, as if encountering an invisible wall. That wall was incredibly hard; no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break through.
"Perhaps I need some opportunity," he opened his eyes, gazing at the sky, "Or perhaps a real battle."
Only battle could stimulate his potential, could allow him to break through the bottleneck.
At the Ghostly Abyss floor, mist still lingered. Yuyi sat alone on the bluestone, his figure exceptionally lonely in the darkness. He knew his path was still long, and the woman named Ziyan was just a passerby on this path.
A brief and beautiful passerby.
But he knew he couldn't give her what she wanted.
Because he had already chosen another path, a lonely and solitary path.
On that path, there was no companionship, no warmth, only endless cultivation and battle.
Night grew deeper.
In the Ghostly Abyss, only Yuyi's breathing echoed, steady and long.
Like the stream in this Ghostly Abyss, never ceasing.
And Ziyan, at this moment, stood on Silver Moon Alliance's rooftop, gazing toward the Ghostly Abyss, tears streaming down her face.
She knew she and Yuyi were destined to be ill-fated.
But she had no regrets.
Because she had once loved, once struggled for this love.
That was enough.
In the night wind, her clothes fluttered, like a withering petal.
That was a sacrifice of love, that was an elegy of youth.
And in the Ghostly Abyss, Yuyi was still cultivating. His mind gradually calmed, spiritual power within his body beginning to accelerate.
He knew he couldn't disappoint Ziyan's devotion. But he also couldn't give her promises, because he didn't know if he could survive walking out of this path.
The path of cultivation has always been lonely.
Only those who can endure loneliness can reach the end.
Yuyi closed his eyes, letting his mind completely immerse in cultivation. He no longer thought of Ziyan, no longer thought of the past, no longer thought of the future.
He just cultivated, just grew stronger.
Because only by growing stronger could he protect the people he wanted to protect.
Only by growing stronger could he survive in this cruel cultivation world.
His spiritual power circulated rapidly through his meridians, each cycle advancing his cultivation by a fraction. That was a qualitative leap, a process from quantitative change to qualitative change.
Gradually, he felt his bottleneck beginning to loosen. That invisible wall had developed a crack.
"Soon," he thought to himself, "Almost breaking through."
A faint smile appeared on his face—that was a longing for power, an expectation for breakthrough.
The mist in the Ghostly Abyss seemed to sense his change, beginning to churn violently.
That was the prelude to a storm, that was the sign of breakthrough.
And Ziyan still stood on the rooftop, gazing toward the Ghostly Abyss.
In her eyes, a determined light flickered.
She would not give up; she would wait for Yuyi.
Wait for him to break through the bottleneck, wait for his injuries to fully heal.
Wait for the day he would be willing to accept her.
Night grew deeper.
The cultivation world fell into silence.
But everyone knew a storm was brewing.
That was Yuyi's return, that was the continuation of a legend.
And Ziyan would be the most beautiful touch of color in this legend.
A touch of color that was unforgettable.
A touch of color that moved the entire cultivation world.
Because of her persistence, because of her courage, because of her love.
This love would accompany Yuyi through the most difficult path.
This love would create a legend.
A legend about loneliness, struggle, and growth.
A legend about Yuyi.
Night grew deeper.
In the Ghostly Abyss, Yuyi's breathing gradually became steady.
His cultivation finally broke through the bottleneck.
From Nascent Soul Realm, he stepped into Deity Transformation Realm.
That was a new realm, a new height.
And he would welcome new challenges.
New challenges, new opportunities, new legends.