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墨書 Inktalez
Yin Yang Demon Suppression
Looking at the familiar yet unfamiliar scene before him, Ye Mingshang felt a sense of confusion and nostalgia. That emotion seemed not to originate from him, yet he could feel it, which was strange but undeniably real.
In a mountain village of Azure Mountains and Green Waters, there was a simple wooden house. A young man covered in scars lay on a rudimentary wooden bed, while a beautiful girl was applying medicine to his wounds.
"Can it show the memories deep within? Well then, let's see what that dream really is."
Four people, four different illusions, four different stories, four different attitudes. Whether joy, sorrow, nostalgia, or indifference, although their bodies were immobilized in the illusion, each person's expression reflected their current mindset.
"It seems they are experiencing the initial beauty," a magnetic Male Voice said. It was none other than the already deceased Nie Jin! At this moment, Nie Jin was bare-chested, revealing solid muscles, and the scars on his body were visibly healing. The hole in his chest that pierced through his Heart had almost completely healed, leaving only a faint trace. The dagger in his head had long been removed; it was hidden beneath his hair but must have healed as well.
Nie Jin moved his body and twisted his neck, producing cracking sounds from the friction of his bones. With a shake of his body, he used his magical power to shake off the blood and dust clinging to him, even the red and white brain matter in his hair was flung away.
The Young Emperor still smiled but with a somewhat cold gaze that held a hint of sharpness. "Don't get those dirty things everywhere."
"Haha, it doesn't matter since this place will be useless afterward," Nie Jin replied nonchalantly, laughing heartily as if he didn't notice the Cold Radiance in the Young Emperor's eyes.
······
"Roll the iron hoop, roll the iron hoop, hahaha!" The childish laughter of children seemed to cleanse the restlessness within. Watching that familiar short figure brought Joan's memories back to the past, to those carefree days in the rural village despite its poverty.
"Shitou, stop playing and come with us to steal watermelons!" shouted a sturdy-looking child with a tiger-like demeanor.
"Ah? Oh, then I'll take the iron hoop back."
"Just hang it on your body; you'll look just as cool as Nezha."
"Oh, okay then."
Shitou really hung the iron hoop around himself; if he cleaned it up and wore a bellyband while tying up his hair, he would indeed look quite like Nezha.
"Little rascal~ hehe!" Looking at the childhood scene made Joan chuckle. He remembered this incident; he was only three years old then and quite mischievous, following his older friend Tzu around causing trouble. He recalled that time they got caught stealing watermelons and ended up getting a good beating from his father. Thinking back now made Joan feel pain in his backside; he had held a grudge against his father for quite some time back then. Unfortunately, now that he wished for another beating from his father, there was no chance left...
······
Following that delicate girl Old Ma filled with warmth in her eyes, he recalled how he had just learned half-baked Yin-Yang Technique and ended up risking someone's life by catching Ghost Messenger. However, it was also because of this that he met the most beautiful girl in his memories.
Walking down the dilapidated hallway, the footsteps made a soft pattering sound that echoed in the empty space. Following the girl's steps, Old Ma felt a surge of emotion. They lived on the fifth floor, the highest level, because it was cheap. The girl had to walk back and forth several times, working hard without ever complaining. Her face was always beaming with a smile, as if all the hardships were worth it for the man she deeply loved.
With a creak, the old wooden door opened. The room was somewhat dim, but the girl was reluctant to turn on the light. She quietly set down the vegetables and fruits she had bought and began doing housework. After tidying up every inch of their small home, she wiped the fine sweat from her forehead and revealed a sweet smile.
"It turns out that every time I come home, it's so clean, but it requires her so much effort..." Old Ma's eyes were already a bit red. He knew the girl had sacrificed a lot for him, but he had never cared about the details.
After finishing cleaning, the girl didn't rest and immediately started preparing dinner. Today she bought a fish, something she usually wouldn't indulge in when alone at home. Today, her beloved man was returning after completing a mission; he loved to eat fish...
Watching the girl skillfully scale and gut the fish, tears swirled in Old Ma's eyes, seemingly ready to spill over at any moment.
"Hmm~ hmm~ hmm~" The girl was clearly very happy, humming a cheerful tune while cooking. She was quite capable; soon, delicious dishes were ready. Even in his imagination, Old Ma could smell that familiar aroma.
Not knowing when her man would return, the girl worried that the food would get cold and lose its taste, so she kept everything warm in the pot. To present her best side to him, she carefully applied the cheap makeup she had always hesitated to use.
Sitting alone at the dining table waiting for her beloved man's return, even though she was already very hungry, she refused to eat the dishes prepared for him. Her face always wore a smile because he loved to see her happy.
Old Ma sat silently across from her, gazing at the most beautiful face etched in his memory. His gaze was filled with deep affection; no woman could remain calm under such tender scrutiny.
He reached out to touch that exquisite face but felt as if he had touched air instead. A sense of loss washed over him; however, being able to see her again was already a great blessing—he dared not wish for more. He sat quietly watching the only woman he had ever loved in his life, his expression so focused as if trying to imprint her fading image back into his memory. He couldn't afford to be distracted; he feared that in the next moment, he would wake from this dream...
...
"Shitou, how is it? I'm not wrong, right? Uncle Zhang's watermelons are the sweetest!" The strong child had watermelon juice all over his face; bright red juice stained his already not-so-white tank top.
"Mm~ mm~ Uncle Zhang's watermelons are indeed the sweetest! And they're juicy!" Shitou gulped down pieces of sweet watermelon flesh while getting juice all over himself and having a seed stuck at the corner of his mouth.
"You little rascal! Coming to steal my family's watermelons again! Just wait until I catch you!" A hoarse male voice echoed from afar.
"Shitou, run!" The strong child dropped his half-eaten watermelon and took off running. However, Shitou was too slow and got caught by Uncle Li who grabbed him by the neck.
"You little rascal! Stealing my family's watermelons again! Look at how much you've eaten—causing so much trouble! This time I won't tell your dad; let's see how he deals with you!"
Shitou struggled helplessly with a mournful expression as Uncle Li took him away. Thinking of his father's stern face, Shitou could already predict what awaited him afterward.
Joan shook her head with an amused smile. Uncle Li was actually quite nice; if you asked him for watermelon openly, he would definitely cut you a big piece to enjoy. Even if you stole some and ate it all up, he wouldn’t mind much. But kids never thought about that—they always stole some without finishing it and would pry open another one just to taste it again; each time they barely ate much but caused trouble for several melons. Even so, Uncle Li never got angry; grabbing them by their necks looked fierce but was really just to avoid tearing their clothes since no family was wealthy enough for clothes that weren't shared among siblings. He avoided grabbing their arms too tightly for fear they might resist and hurt themselves.
Joan hadn’t realized Uncle Li’s kindness before; she always thought he was too strict. But growing up made her understand that he acted that way truly for their own good—despite all those stolen watermelons, he never made them pay back anything. Even when Shitou's father insisted on giving him something afterward, Uncle Li would find a way to return it later. Unfortunately, now there was no chance left to see Uncle Li again.
Dunkong calmly followed the monk along the familiar bluestone path he had walked countless times in his childhood. He felt a wave of nostalgia, remembering the day he was carried up the mountain by his master, taking this very road. Back then, he had been abducted by human traffickers and forced to beg, enduring harsh beatings and scoldings. How many times had he cried alone, longing for his parents' embrace? How many times had he wiped away his tears and told himself that the sun would shine again?
At that young age, he learned to be strong on his own. Only a child's pure heart could endure such inhumane treatment; if an adult or an older child had been in his place, they might have succumbed to despair.
All that suffering ended when his master arrived, clad in a solemn robe with an imposing and furious expression. He still remembered how one person with a stick had swept away the entire den of traffickers with such impressive skill.
The traffickers were captured, and the children were returned home. But where was his home... When he learned that his hometown had flooded and his parents had left, he felt an overwhelming sense of loss and confusion. He was supposed to be sent to an orphanage; although he was reluctant, he had nowhere else to go.
In that moment of despair, a tall figure appeared before him. He still recalled the warm smile as the figure asked, "Child, would you like to become a monk with me?"
That smiling face was as warm as sunlight, instantly dispelling the shadows in his heart. It felt as if life had hope again, and he smiled widely in response, "Yes!"
...
Darkness... darkness... all was darkness! There was no sound, no light, no thought. Ye Mingshang felt as if he were at the deepest point of the universe—devoid of brightness, devoid of life, devoid of everything. All that accompanied him was darkness.
"What happened? What happened afterwards? Why won't you let me know..." Ye Mingshang's expression was somewhat forlorn and regretful.
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