Chapter 214: Love and Hate, the Riddle Left by Pangu

At this moment, nothing else mattered. Liu Yi didn’t know why he had asked such a question. Perhaps he wanted to confirm it, or perhaps he just wanted more time to gaze at the celestial maiden’s clear face. By then, Liu Yi had forgotten everything else.
The celestial maiden stretched out her hand, trying to sense Liu Yi’s true nature in this virtual dream. At that moment, neither of them wanted to speak; they simply wanted to look at each other and feel each other’s presence. Yet deep down, they both knew this was just a dream—a sweet yet painful dream. But neither of them voiced their thoughts.
Beautiful petals drifted from the sky, and a gentle breeze carried their fragrance. Their gazes met, and time seemed to stop. They didn’t know how long it had passed, nor how deep the pain their feelings caused in each other’s hearts ran. Slowly, the celestial maiden lowered her hand. Looking at Liu Yi’s face, her eyes revealed endless sorrow as she shook her head and said, “This is just a dream.”
Hearing her words, Liu Yi felt even more heartache. How could he not know it was a dream? It was just that… he didn’t want to face the truth. He refused to admit it. Even if it was a dream, if he could stay with the person he loved forever, he would be happy. But the celestial maiden’s words made it impossible for him to deceive himself any longer. Yes, it was a dream—one that might change at any moment, and he might leave at any time.
Unconsciously, Liu Yi also slowly lowered his hand…
The celestial maiden looked at Liu Yi and continued, “We’ve been separated for so long.” Her voice wasn’t loud, but it seemed filled with regret.
Hearing her words, Liu Yi said, “Yes, seven thousand years.”
The celestial maiden nodded and said, “Perhaps you should forget me. That way, you won’t suffer anymore.”
Hearing her words, Liu Yi wondered why she would say such hurtful things. His voice trembled as he asked, “Why say that?”
The celestial maiden looked at Liu Yi and said, “Our love might not be wrong, but… how can we defy the gods? For this, we’ve already spent seven thousand years and endured suffering through three lifetimes. I think if we hadn’t started in the first place, none of this sorrow would have befallen us.”
Liu Yi looked at her, suddenly filled with disappointment. He slowly stepped back until he stopped, then couldn’t help asking, “Do you regret it?”
The celestial maiden looked up at the petals falling from the sky, shook her head, and said, “To love you—through this life, even to destruction—I’m willing to give everything. I’ve never regretted it. If… we had another chance to love each other, I’d still do everything without hesitation. But do we still have that chance? Pangu, Nüwa, Houyi, the Yan Emperor, Tianwu, Pojun, Jiangchen… Which of these gods will spare us? For my sake, you’ve already given up so much and endured so much. I don’t want you to continue on this endless path. I just want you to be happy—forever happy. So, I think about how happy you must be if we never started at all.”

Listening to the Heavenly Maiden’s words, Liu Yi already understood her meaning—loving someone meant thinking for them. Yet, the Heavenly Maiden was wrong. Liu Yi shook his head and said, “It doesn’t matter. We’ve already started, so there’s no need to overthink it. The Divine Realm’s attempt to stop us is just an excuse—a pretext for Pangu to destroy me. And in this pretext, you’ve become the most innocent and sorrowful victim. If there’s fault, it’s mine. If there’s anyone to blame, it should be me.”

Hearing Liu Yi’s words, the Heavenly Maiden’s eyes moistened again. She said, “My beloved, happiness shouldn’t be enjoyed only by me, and tears shouldn’t be borne only by you. Those who love each other should know how to share—joy as well as sorrow. It’s not your fault. In this war that desecrates true love, you are my beloved. Even if it means enduring suffering through endless ages, I will still bear it, because—I love you.”

Hearing the Heavenly Maiden’s words, Liu Yi felt an unprecedented warmth in his heart, and for the first time, tears of happiness welled in his eyes. Perhaps what he had done was right. For some reason, he gently shook his head and replied, “Perhaps we no longer have a choice. Since we’ve come this far, let’s not think about starting over. What we need is this long journey and the results of our efforts. Trust me, my lover. Even if it takes countless ages, I will ensure fate gives us an outcome.” For some reason, Liu Yi seemed to see hope and gained resolve.

The Heavenly Maiden looked at Liu Yi and slowly walked up to him. Seeing his weathered eyes, she didn’t know what to say. She simply gently stroked him. Their silence at that moment spoke louder than any words, as time passed between them.

Ye Luo Baihua remained silent beside them, watching these lovers meet briefly in a dream. She didn’t know what to feel—some bitterness, some sweetness, some pain. Perhaps she herself didn’t understand why she felt this way. But what does seven thousand years of love mean to an ordinary person? Can a love truly last through endless ages? Can two people truly endure generations of suffering for love? Or perhaps, the person before her had already left a shadow in her heart.

The Heavenly Maiden looked at Liu Yi. Suddenly, her figure gradually became blurred and transparent. Liu Yi rushed toward her, but passed through her body. He couldn’t believe it, yet he had no choice but to accept it—this place wasn’t real; it was just a dream. Eventually, reality proved it was merely a fantasy. Liu Yi slowly turned around.

At this moment, the Heavenly Maiden’s eyes were filled with affection as she gazed at him. She said softly, “My beloved, this is just a dream. I hope you’ve had enough rest here. Your sword belongs to the world of martial arts, and you belong to the vast expanse of the world. I only wish you happiness. I must leave now. Take care of yourself.”

Liu Yi gazed at the angel’s smiling face and suddenly understood something. Perhaps this dream, this world of the angel, was a haven for the soul. Here, no matter how fierce the storms outside, he could find a peace akin to rebirth and the courage to conquer nature. Liu Yi smiled at the angel and said, “A brief separation is merely the beginning of eternity. For my world revolves around you, and you are the end of my journey. Believe me, my lover—through all ages, our love will endure forever. For you… I am willing to become a shadow in the mortal world, to descend into darkness. When I possess the wings of the Demon King, it marks the beginning of eternal hope. No one can separate us. The moon will shine for us, the seasons will change for us, until the end of time.”

The angel’s shadow gradually blurred, drifting backward until it became indistinct. Yet even as it faded away, the angel in the sky smiled—a genuine smile. A goddess who no longer longed for the divine realm, but sought her true self out of love. A legend of the mortal world, a story from the divine realm.

Ye Luo Baihua watched as the angel disappeared and saw Liu Yi’s eyes filled with hope. She slowly walked over and said, “She’s gone.”

Liu Yi nodded. “Yes. After all, this is just a dream. It doesn’t belong to her. I’m already very satisfied to have seen her.”

Ye Luo Baihua looked at Liu Yi’s expression and asked, “What exactly are you talking about—the wings of the Demon King?”

Liu Yi suddenly turned his head and asked, “The wings of the Demon King? Did I say that?”

Ye Luo Baihua was even more surprised than Liu Yi. Had she heard wrong? But that was impossible. There were only three people here. Though it was a dream, she had clearly heard Liu Yi say that possessing the wings of the Demon King marked the beginning of eternal hope. So why was he now asking her if she had heard that, denying his own words?

Just then, the dream began to change. The sun vanished in an instant, and the sky above turned deep blue. Countless stars shone across the heavens, and a cold moonlight appeared. All the white jade rooms around them disappeared, replaced by nothing but ethereal white air—or perhaps clouds. The surroundings became an endless void, with only one thing unchanged: the two of them still stood in midair, their feet hovering above the empty clouds.

At that moment, a powerful voice spoke, “Of course you don’t remember saying such things, because you can no longer distinguish between yourself as Nie Ren and Liu Yi. Those words were spoken by Nie Ren when he fell seven thousand years ago. By repeating them now, you have followed in his footsteps.”

Liu Yi suddenly understood those words. Yes, he did remember such words in his memory. Could it be that it wasn’t him who spoke those words to the angel earlier, but Nie Ren? But then Liu Yi thought, what did it matter? The Nie Ren of a past life was the Liu Yi of this life. His memories had become part of his past. Even if he didn’t remember them now, so what? Liu Yi became even more curious about this voice and asked, “Who are you? Whether you’re Nie Ren or Liu Yi, from past lives or this life—I am still me. I will do what I want to do.”

That rough voice continued, saying, “Old friend, it’s been so long since we last met. It seems you’ve made progress in matters of emotion. But… for these seven thousand years, your cultivation level has remained stuck at the same stage. How can you expect to defy fate? Don’t you find that childish and laughable?”
Liu Yi suddenly felt a sense of familiarity with this voice and said, “I know. I remember now. You are Pangu!”
The voice replied, “Yes. If I am Pangu, then you must be a Niren.” With that, a multicolored light, like threads, swirled around Liu Yi’s body from the ground. His white hair instantly turned black, and his clothes changed to a long black robe along with that familiar cloak.
Looking at this familiar outfit, Liu Yi realized it—seven thousand years ago, Nirens wore just like this. If Pangu admitted to being Pangu, then that meant he was indeed a Niren. Anger surged within Liu Yi. He clenched his fists and said, “I am who I am—Niren, Wei Lingfeng, Liu Yi. Names are just labels; no one can change me.” As he unleashed tremendous force, his body seemed to burst apart, only to return to its original state at the same time.
Pangu’s voice came from deep in the sky, saying, “Not bad. Some progress.”
Liu Yi tightly gripped the long sword in his left hand and said, “Pangu, if you still think of yourself as a god, then come out and fight me. Don’t hide from me.”
Pangu’s voice came again, this time with a cold laugh, saying, “Young man, you’re too naive. It’s been seven thousand years. Don’t you know what we’ve been doing? Although I’ve been asleep, I’ve still created dreams in my rest to continuously enhance my cultivation. And what about you? What have you done? For seven thousand years, you’ve only been cursed and reincarnated. Your cultivation level has remained at that of a Niren. Even if you’ve improved slightly, you’re still no match for me after seven thousand years of cultivation.”
Hearing Pangu’s words, Liu Yi was naturally furious. But he wasn’t someone who acted on impulse without reason. Pangu was right—seven thousand years wasn’t a short time, especially for a god to use it to improve his cultivation. As for him, he had only achieved Niren-level cultivation. Even if he had improved, it couldn’t compare to Pangu’s seven thousand years of cultivation.
Pangu’s voice continued, “Perhaps there was indeed a gap between me and the Niren seven thousand years ago. But if anyone is to be blamed, it’s him for being too attached to human emotions. The you of now has no way of competing with me.”
Liu Yi shouted loudly, “No! He’s not at fault. So what if you’re a god? All you have are human selfishness, greed, and desires. You lack even the most beautiful human emotions. Even if I can’t compete with you, I still want to fight.”
At that moment, several stars in the sky above Liu Yi suddenly moved, and a reddish-gray gas appeared around them—like clouds, yet not quite. The gas swirled around the stars, forming a vortex. The red light grew brighter, and the stars seemed to arrange themselves in a pattern.

Liu Yi subconsciously gripped the sword in his hand. At the same moment, a fiery red lightning bolt plummeted from that star. Liu Yi was prepared and swiftly drew his long sword, but it was already too late to counterattack—the red lightning was far too fast. He could only raise his sword to block it. With a crackling sound, the red lightning didn’t falter under any force; instead of knocking Liu Yi down, it spread instantly upon touching the black sword blade, enveloping his body. In an instant, fiery red lightning strands formed a web-like pattern, causing his body to suffer as if pierced by countless swords, leaving him numb and powerless.

After spreading across his body, the red lightning didn’t vanish immediately but continued to flicker. With each flicker, Liu Yi’s pain intensified. This red lightning was far more powerful than Thunder Lord’s martial arts techniques.

Pangu’s voice came from the sky once again. “How is it? Look at yourself now—how can you challenge me? Killing you is as easy as flipping my hand.”

At this point, Liu Yi finally realized the terrifying nature of the Great God Pangu. Yet, his pride prevented him from shouting, “Fine, kill me.”

Pangu suddenly fell silent, either lost in thought or preparing to strike Liu Yi down.

Ye Luobaihua beside him wanted to step in to help, but Liu Yi stopped her. If she rushed forward, she would surely be struck by the red lightning. But Liu Yi didn’t give up. No matter how terrifying Pangu’s seven-thousand-year cultivation was, did that mean his own cultivation was worthless?

Without further hesitation, facing Pangu, Liu Yi raised his mental technique to the thirteenth level—Heart of Murder. At the same time, his eyes turned blood red, a hurricane swirling around him, and the sky was covered in a blood-red demonic aura. His white hair fluttered as he had already thought of a way to counter it.

If it were someone from seven thousand years ago, it might indeed have been impossible to break through. But now, the sword in Liu Yi’s hand was different—it had tamed four divine dragons, all of which possessed consciousness and could be used at will. Liu Yi intended to summon the dragon shadows from the sword into his body and then use his powerful vital energy to transform them into protective energy to shatter the red lightning.

Driven by the intense demonic aura, Liu Yi’s blood-red eyes grew brighter. With a loud shout, “Break!” the four dragon shadows appeared around him. With their immense power, the red lightning was instantly shattered into nothingness.

As the lightning disappeared, the dragon shadows gradually vanished as well. Liu Yi sheathed his sword and turned to look at Ye Luobaihua, who was still worried. Seeing that Liu Yi was unharmed, she felt much relieved.

Just then, Pangu’s voice came again, tinged with surprise. “The Desert Dragon?”

Hearing Pangu’s voice, Liu Yi replied, “Whatever your plans are, since you’ve come, I’ll accompany you to the end.”

Pangu listened to Liu Yi’s words and seemed somewhat angry. He said, “You were supposed to die originally, but…” He didn’t finish his sentence. It seemed as though Pangu was under some constraint and couldn’t kill Liu Yi. But what could possibly restrict such a great deity as Pangu? He created all things in the world with the help of Nüwa—who else could restrict him?

Then, Pangu’s voice gradually faded away. He said, “I think we will definitely meet, face to face, really… Haha…” His voice spread far but slowly disappeared, leaving no sound at all.

Soon, the whole world returned to silence, but Liu Yi’s mind was filled with confusion. Looking at the countless morning stars in the sky, he thought to himself, “Why is this happening? Didn’t Pangu always want to eliminate the True Demon? Why didn’t he take advantage of this good opportunity in his dream? With Pangu’s current power, it would be effortless for him to kill Liu Yi. So why did he just leave?”

Ye Luobaihua came over, seemingly having the same question. “Why did he leave?”

Liu Yi stared at the vanished Pangu, not answering Ye Luobaihua. He continued to ponder. All dreams were merely creations of their own consciousnesses. So why were these dreams so real? From beginning to end, everything seen in the dream seemed like real people with thoughts and lives. Could it be… that there was another person controlling this dream?

If that were the case, it would explain Pangu’s departure. Perhaps the one who created Pangu’s shadow didn’t want to kill him and just found an excuse to leave. If it really were Pangu, he would never have let go of Liu Yi. So… who was this person behind the scenes?

Gradually, a strange idea arose in Liu Yi’s mind. In this dream, there wasn’t only the real him and the real Ye Luobaihua, but also another real person controlling their entire experience. If this dream was a world, then calling this person behind the scenes fate wouldn’t be an exaggeration…