Chapter 12-13

Quite.... a Violent Threat!

The servant gracefully bent her knees and offered a deep bow as the pair passed by.

"Greetings, honorable guest," she said, her voice respectful and measured.

However, when her gaze shifted to the woman beside him, her words faltered for a brief moment.

"And greetings... young lady."

The couple paid no heed to the servant as they continued forward, leaving the servant to straighten up and watch their backs disappear into the corridor.

By now, Yang Huo had passed several servants and guards along the way. The contrast only further reinforced his suspicion that the Su family had indeed abandoned that part of the residence.

Yet, as he pondered about this, his attention returned to the woman walking ahead of him.

She seemed utterly absorbed in the scenery, as though seeing it anew.

'She hadn't said a single word since then...'

Yang Huo couldn't even muster a dry laugh at this. He had genuinely expected her to strike up a conversation the moment they were alone. But jokes on him. She didn't even spare him a glance.

It felt like he had been… forgotten?

As they walked alone through the dimly lit corridor, surrounded by beautiful flora, only the sound of their footsteps accompanied them.

Yang Huo shook his head slowly. No. This wouldn't do.

"I almost forgot to ask," he broke the silence and said casually, "where were you just now?"

He waited.

Two seconds passed.

Then four.

Then eight.

She didn't slow down. Didn't turn. Didn't even twitch.

Yang Huo stared at the back of her head, momentarily at a loss.

Was he being ignored? Or did her mind drifted to some other plane of existence?

Just a moment ago, she had been so emotional upon seeing him. Yet now, she walked ahead as though they were complete strangers.

But looking at her more closely, Yang Huo realized something was clearly occupying her attention—so much so that she hadn't even noticed being called.

'This....'

Yang Huo didn't know what it was, but if she remained like this, agreeing to let her guide him would amount to nothing more than wasted risk.

That wouldn't do.

So… even if done forcefully, he needed to somehow test the waters now.

Especially on the dynamics of their relationship.

With that in mind, he reached out and lightly tapped her shoulder.

As she turned to face him, Yang Huo softened his expression, the edge in his gaze easing as he leaned in.

"You seem to be quite distracted..."

He stopped just within her intimate space—close, but not invasive. Close enough for their breaths to brush faintly. For most maidens, such proximity was subtle enough to create a slight fluster.

"What are you thinking?" His voice lowered, gentle—almost enchanting.

But for her, such techniques seemed to amount to nothing more than empty tricks.

She met his gaze with calm, clear eyes—unaffected by the closeness, unmoved by the warmth between them.

She smiled, almost perfunctorily.

"It's nothing," she said.

Yet for the briefest moment, something else surfaced in her eyes.

Not love.

Not fear.

Not happiness.

And then it was gone—gone before he could identify it.

The young woman looked away and resumed walking.

Hmm....

That definitely piqued his curiosity.

But before Yang Huo could probe further, her expression suddenly changed, as though nothing before had ever happened. Her face brightened, and without warning, she darted forward.

Yang Huo's eyes trailed her as she goes into the room—

'Wait, isn't that my room?'

He quickened his pace, unable to believe the situation.

'Did that darn owl seriously forget to close the door before leaving?'

Finding her standing with her arms tucked behind her back, surveying the room with evident curiosity. walking left and right and even spinning around as if she were in a museum. Yang Huo felt compelled to stop her.

"Do you need something?" he asked, halting her exploration.

She turned toward him, curiosity still lingering in her eyes. "Why don't I see any of your things here?"

The question caught him off guard. Was she dead serious right now?

But she.... didn't seem to be lying.

"Of.... course," he replied slowly. "I only arrived this evening."

Realization dawned on her face. "Aah—so you've only been here for a day? That makes sense." she exclaimed.

As her words faded, the room gradually fell quiet.

After a moment of awkward silence, with neither of them speaking, she smiled sheepishly, cleared her throat, and slipped out.

"Anyway, I'm going back now… b-bye bye!" she stuttered, already in motion as she disappeared down the corridor.

Yang Huo was left momentarily perplexed.

Shaking his head, Yang Huo wasn't quite sure how to react.

'It... seemed it will take a long while to figure her out.'

Amused despite himself, he let out a small chuckle and moved to close the door.

But just as it was about to shut, an arm suddenly blocked it.

Yang Huo slid it open again, only to find her standing there once more.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Her expression remained solemn as she extended her hand toward him, palm open—clearly asking for something.

A strange sense of familiarity stirred—

"My necklace," she said heavily. "Give it back."

Obviously, Yang Huo didn't understand what she—wait. Necklace?

"....The keepsake?"

"Yes. My mother's keepsake." She furrowed her brows. "Don't tell me you forgot."

"I know you're the one who's been holding onto it all this time."

In that instant, Yang Huo's thoughts kicked into overdrive.

The revelation caught him off guard, but dwelling on it wouldn't help. What mattered was handling the situation properly.

In the blink of an eye, Yang Huo seamlessly slipped into the persona of the original Yang Huo he had been envisioning.

A sly grin curved his lips as he leaned casually against the doorframe, exuding an air of casual confidence.

"You already know the answer, don't you?"

The young woman, Su Meiying, narrowed her eyes. "So you won't give it back?"

Yang Huo merely smiled—and said nothing.

A heavy atmosphere descended, punctuated only by the intense stare-down between this couple.

As the tension mounted, nearing suffocation, Su Meiying broke the gaze, exhaling a quiet, resigned sigh.

Disappointment flickered across her face, but she seemed to accept it.

"Then at least… keep it safe," she said softly. "You know how important it is to me."

But once again, Yang Huo said nothing. He simply observe—

Suddenly, Su Meiying produced a strikingly familiar white pill and shoved it into her mouth, biting down hard. Far too hard. The movement was rough, almost violent, and her eyes—especially her eyes—were unmistakably menacing.

After that violent display, she turned and left without another word.

"....."

Yang Huo's eye twitched.

'Was that.... a threat???'

The Dead Is Alive. And The Alive Is Dead.

"This... really doesn't make sense," Yang Huo muttered under his breath.

For over an hour, he had been poring over the story given by that still-missing owl. The narrative supposedly chronicled the interactions between the original Yang Huo and Su Meiying. But while their contact had dwindled in their later years, there should still be plenty of material for him to use.

'But the more I read this, the less sense it makes,' Yang Huo frowned at the screen in front of him.

Nothing, truly nothing, could explain the Su Meiying he had just encountered.

In the story, Su Meiying was exactly as he had expected. A lonely girl unjustly persecuted by her own family. There were moments that showcased her resilience and quiet perseverance, but they fell far short of explaining the massive shift in personality he had witnessed tonight.

Even if she had changed over the long years since the original Yang Huo last saw her…

"Why doesn't she hate me?"

Even Yang Huo had to admit that the original owner of this body was a bastard through and through. He wasn't one to sling crude insults, but the man's sharp tongue was like pouring salt and pepper into an open wound.

He might not have inflicted the wound, but he always made damn sure it stung.

And even if Su Meiying was a living saint who had forgiven him, it still made little sense for her to act so… positively toward him.

"No way... it's not because of the face, right?"

The words came out half-joking, half-disbelieving as Yang Huo turned toward the bronze mirror hanging on the wall.

He stepped closer and studied his reflection.

Long, dark purple hair flowed down his back, held neatly in place by an ornate crown that lent him a regal touch to his appearance. His eyes, a striking gold, glimmered with an intense, almost otherworldly brilliance—a stark contrast to the cold, untouchable aura he exuded.

His skin was flawless, smooth, and.... and.... dammit! Wasn't this body a little too handsome?!!?

'Tsk, this face looks even better than my actual face..... but only slightly though.'

...Yeah, you wished.

With a weary sigh, Yang Huo collapsed onto the soft bed with a dull thud. When he opened his eyes, his gaze drifted back to the screen hovering in front of him, settling on a single name written within the text.

[Yang Huo]

Foreign.

Every time he was called by the unfamiliar name of this original body, it felt like he was being coerced into playing a role in some grand theater.

But after seeing his reflection in the bronze mirror, he could no longer deny it.

From now on, this was his body.

His name.
His reputation.
His backstory.

And whether he liked it or not—his true identity.

He was Yang Huo.

"Oi, System, come out," he called to the screen.

But just like before, there was no response. Only the cold, emotionless interface stared back at him.

Yet Yang Huo didn't look away. As though ensnared by the abyss, he kept his gaze fixed on the unmoving screen. It was unclear what occupied his thoughts—but after a long silence, he spoke again, his voice low.

"System, open the inventory."

Instantly, a new screen materialized before him.

An empty inventory.

Yang Huo let out a long breath.

It seemed his hunch was right... or maybe not? Well, it didn't matter either way. He would test it sooner or later. For now, there were more important things to focus on.

Staring up at the ceiling, Yang Huo retrieved a crystal necklace from his storage ring. A small, eight-sided gem sat at its center, emitting a dark glow reminiscent of the bottomless depths of a vast blue ocean.

Su Meiying's necklace… there has to be something special about it.

Turning it between his fingers, Yang Huo examined the gem carefully, searching for anything noteworthy.

One question kept resurfacing. Why would the System deliberately give him a book documenting the story of the original Yang Huo and his fiancée?

The System didn't strike him as someone that appreciated romance. So who was this so-called fiancée to be so important that the System deemed it necessary to record?

And now that he had met Su Meiying in person, Yang Huo was even more convinced of his conjecture.

'That girl is special. She has to be.'

If that was the case, then whatever she considered important…

…it wasn't unreasonable to think there was genuine value hidden within this necklace.

Unfortunately, the excitement was short-lived. No matter what he tried—different intensities, purer Qi, slower circulation—there was no further response.

'Hmm... since it at least reacts with Qi at all, does it help with cultivation?'

Coincidentally, he had been meaning to try this so-called cultivation anyway.

In his original world, there was no such thing as magical energy permeating the air. Everything he had done so far relied purely on the body's memory. Using the storage ring. Identifying medicinal pills. Activating the spider puppet. Even sensing another's presence.

All because the original Yang Huo had done all of those things countless times.

Which, admittedly, felt a little strange—like his hands, or even his internal energies, responded a fraction of a second before his intent fully formed.

Sitting upright, Yang Huo closed his eyes and settled into a comfortable lotus position, the necklace resting in his palm. Slowly, he began circulating the Qi within his body.

From his stomach to his chest.
From chest to head.
From head to limbs.
From limbs to fingertips—
—and finally, into the necklace.

…But nothing.

No matter how much energy he poured in, no matter its purity or intensity, most of it dispersed harmlessly around the gem, while the rest was repelled outright.

'This is a complete failure…'

Stucked in his progress, Yang Huo halted his cultivation and opened his ey—

Darkness.

Not dimness. Not shadow.

Pure, absolute darkness stretched in every direction.

Yang Huo had somehow been transported to an unknown realm.

No sky.
No ground.
No distance or horizon.

Just an endless void.

'Is this the necklace doing?'

He glanced down instinctively. The necklace was gone.

In this very bizarre situation, Yang Huo kept himself calm and tried to stand—

A sharp, explosive pain erupted in his chest.

*Sqwelp!*

The sensation was so sudden, so excruciating, that his mind couldn't immediately process it. His body froze mid-motion as a warm wetness spread across his robes.

Instinctively, Yang Huo reached for his chest.

His fingers met something sharp.

Something embedded in him.

A sword.

It had pierced straight through his heart.

"W-who...?!"

Slowly, he turned his head—and saw a dark silhouette watching him.

Strength drained from Yang Huo's body, and he collapsed to the ground. From below, his eyes remained locked onto the figure looming above him.

Struggling to remain conscious, he felt disbelief twist through his fading thoughts.

It was a familiar face. One he had seen very recently.

One he could not, would not, and should not forget.

But… this man wasn't supposed to be here.