“There is no other choice. I have to go in.”

After a moment of contemplation, Han Lie made a bold decision. He would attempt to breach Bai Ling’s spiritual world.

If his suspicion was correct and she was confronting her deepest fears, the girl stood little chance of enduring it alone. Han Lie knew exactly what nightmare haunted her: the years she spent as a pawn of the Sun Moon Sect, infiltrating the Heavenly Void Sect to steal the Yin Yang Demonic Art, all while terrified that he—the humble servant Han Lie—had discovered her secret.

For years, she had lived on a knife’s edge, crushed between the demands of her dark masters and the fear that Han Lie would expose her to Ye Qingxuan. For a young girl with little worldly experience, the psychological burden had been titanic.

She had been lucky to escape that quagmire early. Had it dragged on any longer, the dual pressure would have shattered her mind long ago.

Han Lie had faced a trial of desire because his own trauma had healed; Ye Qingxuan’s change in attitude had allowed him to bury the humiliation of his past as an old servant. But Bai Ling was different. Her wounds were fresh. The darkness of those years still clung to her, suffocating and immediate.

Han Lie took a deep breath, his resolve hardening. He stepped forward into the void and firmly clasped Bai Ling’s cold, sweat-drenched hand.

Inside the Spiritual World – The Cloud Sea Forest

“Old Man Han, I beg you! Please, can you keep my secret? Don’t tell Master!”

“I… I can compensate you! Anything you want, just please, keep my secret!”

Beneath the dense canopy of the Cloud Sea Forest, Bai Ling collapsed to the ground. Her limbs were soft with terror, her heart turning to cold ash as she groveled before the figure standing over her.

It was Han Lie. Or rather, the memory of him—an older, colder version of the man she knew.

“Saintess,” the phantom Han Lie sneered, his expression indifferent. “Back when you exhausted every scheme and trick to put This Senior in his grave, did you ever consider showing me mercy?”

Bai Ling trembled, tears streaming down her face like rain on pear blossoms.

“If This Senior hadn’t been one step ahead,” the phantom continued, his voice dripping with malice, “I would have died a miserable death by your hand long ago. And now you know to beg me for silence? It is too late!”

“I was wrong, Old Man Han! I really know I was wrong!” Bai Ling cried, her voice cracking with despair.

“You do not know you were wrong,” the phantom scoffed. “You only know you are about to die.”

He reached down, grabbing her by the collar. “Come. Follow This Senior back to the Violet Heaven Palace. You can confess your crimes to the Sect Leader yourself.”

“No…! No! Old Man Han, please! Master… Master will kill me! I beg you, I really don’t want to die!”

Her pleas fell on deaf ears. The phantom remained unmoved, dragging her relentlessly toward the sect, toward her execution.

Tap.

Just as the phantom dragged the sobbing girl to the edge of the forest, a figure emerged from the shadows, blocking their path.

“Who goes there?!” the phantom Han Lie barked, instantly on guard.

Bai Ling, teetering on the edge of a mental collapse, froze. Her tear-filled eyes focused on the silhouette ahead. Despite the overwhelming terror of the moment, a strange, inexplicable sense of safety washed over her as she looked at him.

The figure, hands clasped casually behind his back, slowly turned around.

Both Bai Ling and the phantom froze.

“Han… another Old Man Han?!” Bai Ling swallowed hard, her voice trembling in disbelief.

Standing before them was Han Lie—but not the hunched, graying servant of her nightmare. This was Han Lie in his prime: tall, broad-shouldered, radiating an aura of absolute dominance.

“Who are you!?” the phantom blustered, his bravado masking a flicker of fear. “How dare you impersonate This Senior!”

The real Han Lie looked at his twisted reflection with a cold smirk.

“Impersonate? No,” Han Lie said, his voice deep and resonant. “Let’s just say I’m here to correct the heavens.”

Whoosh!

Han Lie moved. He blurred into motion, closing the distance in a heartbeat. With a single, casual palm strike, he slammed into the phantom.

There was no contest. The nightmare construct didn’t even have time to scream before it was blasted into fine powder, scattering into the wind.

Having erased the impostor, Han Lie adjusted his robes and walked slowly toward the trembling girl. He extended a hand.

Bai Ling shrank back, confused and terrified, but after a moment’s hesitation, she reached out and grasped his warm fingers. He pulled her to her feet.

“You… you are the real Old Man Han?” she stammered, her eyes darting around. “Can you… can you spare my life? Please?”

Even now, trapped in the logic of her fear, she begged.

Han Lie’s brow twitched. Her subconscious had fully accepted this nightmare as reality. If he hadn’t spotted the inconsistencies in his own dream so quickly, he might have been just as lost. The illusion was terrifyingly seamless.

“Alright,” Han Lie said, a gentle smile softening his sharp features. “I agree.”

“Ah…?” Bai Ling blinked, her tears pausing. “R-really? Old Man Han, you… you wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

His agreement had been so quick, so easy, that her mind couldn’t process it.

“Why would I lie to you?” Han Lie squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Let me tell you exactly what happens next.”

He looked her in the eye, his expression turning serious. “The Sect Leader will find out you are a spy for the Sun Moon Sect. She will be furious. She will want to kill you.”

Bai Ling whimpered, her knees buckling.

“But,” Han Lie interrupted firmly, holding her up. “I will plead for leniency on your behalf. I will convince the Sect Leader to spare you. And I will succeed.”

Bai Ling stared at him, her mouth slightly open.

“After that,” Han Lie continued, “the Sect Leader will rescue your parents and your family. You will escape the clutches of the Sun Moon Sect entirely. Everyone survives. Everyone is happy.”

Bai Ling stood frozen, her brain grinding to a halt.

“Old Man Han… you… are you telling the truth?” she whispered, daring to hope.

“Of course it is true,” Han Lie nodded, his smile widening. “Because all of this has already happened.”

“……….?”

Bai Ling looked at him with an expression of utter, blank confusion. She recognized every word he spoke, but strung together, they made no sense. Already happened? How? We are here. I am about to die. The cognitive dissonance was so strong she looked as if her mind was about to shatter.

Han Lie saw the gears jamming in her head.

“I know what you are thinking, Saintess,” he said, his voice cutting through the fog. “But I can tell you responsibly: everything here is fake. This is your spiritual world.”

He leaned in closer, his gaze intense. “You and I are currently training in the ruins of the Buried Immortal Mountain Range. Do you remember?”

Buzz!

The words struck her like a physical blow. Bai Ling’s delicate body trembled violently. The terror in her eyes faded, replaced by a vacant, glassy stare as the realization took hold.

The forest, the path, the looming threat—the world around them began to crack and crumble like dry clay.

Han Lie didn’t wait. He released his consciousness, surging back toward the waking world.

Reality – The Void Space

“Ah… Ahhh—!”

The moment Han Lie opened his eyes, a piercing scream shattered the silence of the void.

He looked over to see Bai Ling thrashing in empty space, her body convulsing. She was soaked in cold sweat, her clothes clinging to her skin. Her eyes were open now, but they were wide, hollow, and filled with lingering horror.

“No… No—!”

She clutched her head, her fingers digging into her scalp, screaming as if the executioner’s blade were still falling.

“Don’t kill me… please…”

Han Lie moved instantly. He grabbed her flailing form, pulling her into a tight embrace to restrain her. At the same time, he pressed his palm against her back, channeling a stream of warm, Pure Yang energy directly into her meridians.

“No…”

“It’s okay,” Han Lie murmured.

“No…”

Bai Ling struggled violently against him, kicking and crying, but the Pure Yang energy began to do its work. It flooded her system, dispersing the cold grip of the nightmare and grounding her chaotic qi.

Slowly, the frantic struggles weakened. Her breathing hitched, then deepened. The hollow, dead look in her eyes began to fade, replaced by a flicker of recognition. Life and spirit returned to her gaze.

She blinked, focusing on the face hovering above hers.

“It’s alright now, Saintess,” Han Lie whispered, brushing a stray lock of wet hair from her forehead. “You are safe.”

Bai Ling stared at him, her chest heaving. Her lips trembled.

“Lie… Brother Lie?”