Chapter 1176: The One I Miss

Chapter 1176: The One I Long For

Love always stirs the heart, always enchants the soul.

Countless men and women dream of meeting that one destined person—walking hand in hand through every stage of life together.

As the ancient wedding vows proclaim: “May phoenix and luan sing in harmony; may our hearts be forever bound as one; may we grow old together with hair turned white; may we share life and death as a single fate.”

Yet in this world, some karmic ties endure even when oaths remain unfulfilled—mountain-deep vows still echo, yet love letters cannot be sent.

Some souls must spend lifetimes grieving the sorrow of what might have been.

Thus, someone rows a boat upon the River of Divine Blood, their wedding robes growing threadbare over countless millennia.

Thus, someone descends into madness within solitude, masking inner bitterness with laughter and curses, becoming a petty swordsman swinging blades in despair.

...

Divine lovers are, after all, exceedingly rare.

The vast majority of love stories struggle desperately within whirlpools of fate.

Those regrets of unrequited love shimmer like unreachable stars—beautiful for a moment, yet inevitably fading into darkness.

One can only stand within the celestial palace of time, gazing at curtains and window screens unchanged, murmuring softly before the hall: “Someone is missing here.”

Recalling this very gate on this very day last year—her face and peach blossoms glowing red against each other…

Softly sighing: “There is someone I long for, far away in distant lands.”

Bitterly musing: “There is something I feel deeply, knotted tightly in my gut.”

This person, this matter—needs no words to be understood.

Indeed, the east wind turns cruel; joy grows thin. A heart full of sorrow, years spent apart in loneliness.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

Peach blossoms fall; idle pavilions stand empty. Though mountain-oaths remain, love letters cannot be delivered.

No, no, no.

But… the river of time has two banks; the path of reincarnation forms a circle.

If you never forget, echoes will eventually return.

Those words spoken upon the River of Blood stirred ripples once more.

“You… have come back.”

Her face—where has it gone? Peach blossoms still smile in the spring breeze.

Though all things change and people fade, walking alongside the spring wind comes once more the silhouette from memory.

After waiting countless millennia, they finally reunite beyond the bounds of time.

A bond severed at the far end of space and time is now, today, mended by Xu Qing standing on this side of eternity.

...

“All these years, I’ve often thought… meeting someone who makes your heart flutter—is not just fate, but fortune.”

Linghuang Immortal gazed at her young master, whispering softly.

Outside, the winds of spacetime swirled into a storm, twisting into a vortex. Inside… they lifted Linghuang’s dark tresses strand by strand, each lock murmuring longing.

Brilliant sands of time drifted down, encircling Young Master Jiguang and Linghuang.

From afar, amidst the vast tempest, this scene appeared dreamlike, ethereal.

“That time long ago—we never completed our wedding rites… During the calamity, my father came here to take us both away.”

“You refused to leave with him, saying we hadn’t formally wed, that we weren’t husband and wife yet—and that my name wasn’t written in the marriage contract. I knew—you didn’t want to burden me.”

“So you chose… to stay here, repaying your father’s debt in his stead.”

“And I chose… to punish myself upon the River of Blood, redeeming your sin.”

“So today… does this count as our wedding? Is my name now truly engraved upon the marriage scroll?”

Linghuang Immortal whispered gently.

“The debt is repaid. The sin is redeemed…

Can we go home now?”

Young Master Jiguang remained silent.

At that moment, the turbulence of spacetime intensified. The vortex roared deafeningly within the celestial palace, and ever more grains of temporal sand poured forth.

Gathering around them, the sands slowly coalesced once again into an hourglass existing outside of time itself.

Not merely the span of one incense stick—

This quantity of sand could sustain… a full hour.

This was the utmost limit this mirrored spacetime could presently achieve.

Yet Young Master Jiguang still gave no answer to Linghuang’s question.

He raised his head—and looked toward the place where his father, Lord Jiguang, stood.

The instant his gaze landed, the extra measure of time Xu Qing had granted—one incense stick’s duration—came to an end.

Heaven and earth thundered; the eight directions trembled. All frozen beings and objects suddenly returned to normalcy.

Laughter rang out anew; joyous voices rose once more.

As if no one had noticed that time itself had been extended by the burning of one incense stick.

Even the sky’s turbulence calmed—the sun and moon dimmed at this very moment.

The chaos of heavenly omens reached its peak, fulfilling the principle that after extreme adversity comes great fortune!

Until—a flash of white light, brilliant enough to illuminate the entire Fifth Star Ring, burst forth across the heavens.

Like an ocean tide, it swept over everything!

The Era of Jiguang arrived—one incense stick late.

Infinite power converged at this instant, surging into Lord Jiguang’s being, forming an imperial robe around his body.

Countless recognitions imprinted his name as “Jiguang” in this moment, forging an emperor’s crown.

Lord Jiguang ascended the throne!

Henceforth, he would preside over this era, becoming Sovereign of the Fifth Star Ring!

And the sun and moon, having dimmed to their utmost, suddenly blazed with overwhelming radiance.

Sun and moon shone together—glory without end.

Thus, Lord Jiguang cast his gaze upon the world—and finally upon his own child. His eyes held gentleness, blessing… and farewell.

Then he lifted his foot—and with a single step, soared into the heavens.

Walking across the firmament, striding before sun and moon, at the precise moment of assuming rulership over the Star Ring, as infinite power gathered around him, his hand grew boundlessly vast.

It covered the sky, pierced through the Nine Heavens, and appeared above the sun and moon themselves.

A gentle wave of the hand.

As if piercing through a barrier like a bubble, he plucked out the sun and moon within!

In that instant, heaven and earth plunged into utter darkness—the sun and moon vanished from the sky, and even the aurora’s own radiance turned to blackness.

Thus, the entire Fifth Star Ring was bereft of light!

Only in the palm of the Aurora Immortal Sovereign did the sun and moon remain—pressed by his hand, they were sent, through unseen currents, deep into his son’s body!

All unfolded with perfect ease; the merging of sun and moon met not the slightest resistance, as though water flowing naturally to its course.

For at the very first moment of cosmic chaos, he had already plucked away the names of sun and moon, causing all living beings to unknowingly forget them.

And he had hidden those names within his son’s name itself.

Mi Ming. Mi Ming.

“To seek” is “Mi”; “sun and moon” are “Ming.”

This is—Mi Ming!

“Henceforth, you shall be the sun and moon of the Fifth Star Ring—your heart filled with infinite light, untainted in the slightest, and divine will ever before you. From this day forth, divine calamity shall never touch you!”

“My son Ming… this is your father’s… wedding gift to you.”

“Go now… live the life you have always wished for.”

The Aurora Immortal Sovereign spoke softly, then lifted his gaze toward the pitch-black heavens. In that instant, black qi erupted violently from within him, thundering outward in every direction.

At the same time, his voice echoed throughout the entire Fifth Star Ring:

“The world holds seven colors—I take its red!”

“Merge it into my aurora, forging crimson radiance!”

“With this… I shall complete my path of divinity—rewrite the laws, reshape the order!”

His voice thundered in the ears of all beings, shattering countless minds, rising into a deafening roar—then… endless red was drawn forth by him, appearing in the firmament, merging with his own light.

Forming… the Crimson Aurora!

That aurora surged like collapsing mountains and surging seas, irresistible and overwhelming, instantly blanketing the sky, covering the heads of all living beings…

It changed the heavens!

So that henceforth, the Crimson Aurora would become the only celestial light gazed upon by the people of the Fifth Star Ring!

Yet strangely, such a cataclysm—unprecedented since the Fifth Star Ring became a land of cultivators—should have shaken all existence.

But everyone within the immortal palace, including the Fourth True Lord, was smiling.

Music played on, blessings continued, laughter and joy uninterrupted—not a single pause.

As if no one had noticed the transformation beyond.

This scene stood in stark, jarring contrast to the upheaval in the heavens.

And all of this, perceived by Xu Qing, stirred profound shock within him as he gazed upon that familiar crimson sky-light.

“Is this… the truth?”

“But why would the Immortal Sovereign do this? And why do the people around me act thus?”

“And the Young Master of the Aurora… what is his ultimate aim?”

Xu Qing’s thoughts churned, and faintly, an answer began to form.

Almost the moment that answer surfaced, the voice of the Aurora Immortal Sovereign rang out once more from the heavens—this time far sharper than before!

“Immortal Venerable—do you hear me?!”

As this thunderous cry spread across the crimson sky, an ancient sigh emerged—from the heavens, from the earth, from emptiness, from all things, from every living being, from every corner of the Fifth Star Ring…

It converged into a single voice steeped in ten thousand ages of sorrow.

That sound reverberated, twisting the sky, driving back the red light, revealing the vast starry expanse beyond.

But even that starry sky began to warp.

Countless stars, within that distortion, transformed into bubbles of varying sizes and hues—yet none bore red.

Infinite in number, each bubble contained a scene.

If all those scenes were pieced together, they would form… the complete visage of the Fifth Star Ring!

Then, with that sigh, an aged hand appeared in the starry sky—two fingers rose and gently pinched one of those bubbles.

Pop—it burst.

Instantly, the entire immortal palace shattered like that bubble.

All beings and all things turned to ash and vanished.

No matter their cultivation, none could resist—it all dissolved into the boundless void.

The Fourth True Lord, the Grand Elder, nearly everyone—including those outsiders inhabiting other cultivators—none were spared.

Only the Young Master of the Aurora and the Spirit Phoenix Immortal remained amidst the endless ruins of drifting ash,

As though they had always been among the living!

Above, the figure of the Aurora Immortal Sovereign also faded—but was filled anew by boundless crimson light, which gathered upon his form, propelling him through the heavenly veil.

He emerged into the starry expanse, standing atop the sea of countless bubbles, locking in battle with that ancient hand.

Below, amid the ruins of annihilation, the Young Master stood silent.

He gazed up at the figure in the stars, yearning to lift his foot—to take that step forward.

He had believed he could.

After all, this was the opportunity he’d schemed for over countless millennia—the closest he’d ever come, across endless eons, to the thing he most desired.

He had thought himself resolute enough to choose.

But… his eyes could not help but turn toward Linghuang beside him. Their hands were clasped—hers held tightly.

He knew she awaited an answer.

An answer she’d waited millions of years to hear.

Faintly, he seemed to see again the river of divine blood, the tattered boat upon it, the aged figure in a straw rain cape—and beneath that cape, an ancient wedding robe.

Wind and rain drifted, time flowed, year after year…

Compared to that, a million reasons died unspoken on his lips.

His steadfast step lost all strength to move.

He knew—he owed her far, far too much…

And so, after a silence that stretched into eternity, he exhaled deeply—a breath heavy with the weight of millennia—and with immense difficulty, suppressed the obsession that had clung to his soul for countless ages.

Raising his hand, he gently swept aside the stray lock of hair that had fallen onto Linghuang’s forehead, tucking it tenderly behind her ear.

Softly, he whispered,

“Let’s go home…”

Those words—Linghuang had waited an eternity to hear them.

And now, at last, they had come.

She stared, transfixed, at the figure before her—so achingly familiar from memory, every detail etched indelibly into her heart.

Tears spilled down her cheeks.

Her grip on his hand tightened.

At last, she spoke, voice barely above a whisper:

“I know you can never truly let go. I know you cannot understand, nor forgive the Heavenly Sovereign… I know you seek clarity—the true secrets and karmic threads woven here. And deeper still, I know everything you’ve done… is to try to save him—your father.”

“This grand design—you never intended it for me…”

“It was always about this hourglass, about stepping beyond this borrowed hour.”

“You meant to use it to journey into true history, not remain trapped in this mirrored illusion.”

“You wanted to go there—to change what happened!”

“And yet now, for my sake, you would abandon it all… So…”

Linghuang gazed into her beloved’s eyes. Her jade-like hand rose, grasping the hourglass floating nearby. With a gentle squeeze, it shattered with a sharp crack.

Countless grains of time-sand burst forth, swirling instantly into a radiant vortex—a gateway leading straight into authentic history!

Jiguang Shaozhu’s heart trembled with emotion.

Before the portal, the immortal maiden Linghuang spoke softly, tenderly:

“I’ll go with you. Together… in life and death.”

Wait for me one day.

I’d just written half a chapter, but upon rereading it carefully, I felt dissatisfied.

The next chapter returns to true history from the Celestial Palace arc—it demands deep emotional resonance.

Yet today, my state of mind is truly poor.

If I force myself to write now, I have a strong premonition: regret will follow.

I need more time to refine my vision before setting pen to paper again.