Chapter 111: Do You Still Remember Me?

Although he had not intentionally observed the evil spirit, Zhou Qing was startled by the sudden scene and stopped at the riverbed.

“Friend beneath the river, please show yourself,” came a voice as Zhou Qing halted. After a moment’s hesitation, he willed the lake water to lift his body, rising to the river’s surface.

Upon emerging, he saw a young man, handsome and imposing, dressed in flowing white robes and holding a long sword. The youth appeared to be about twenty-three or twenty-four, his looks and bearing rivaling Zhou Qing’s own, neither yielding an inch in presence.

“Is there something you need, fellow cultivator?” Standing atop the water, Zhou Qing observed the white-robed youth, his face revealing nothing.

The youth scrutinized Zhou Qing after he surfaced, then asked, “Which sect do you belong to, friend?”

Noting the youth’s courteous tone, always addressing him as ‘friend,’ Zhou Qing allowed a faint smile. “My sect consists only of myself, lacking renown or distinction; I doubt you would care to know.”

“I thought you had come to aid us.” The youth’s tone shifted, pressing, “What connection do you have to that evil spirit in the riverbed?”

“Aid you?” Zhou Qing’s confusion rose at the youth’s odd remark. Seeing the change in demeanor, he dropped his smile and replied, “No connection. The great road leads to the heavens; we simply crossed paths by chance.”

“If you are merely passing through and not here to help, then you should leave,” said the white-robed youth, sheathing his sword and walking across the river toward the shore.

As the youth’s figure ascended the bank, Zhou Qing pondered his words. Clearly, something had happened here, drawing many cultivators together. It was for this reason he had been mistaken for one who came to assist. Now, since it concerned him not, it was best to depart.

“Senior Brother Ao Tian!”

Just as Zhou Qing prepared to dive beneath the river again, a girl’s voice called out. He turned and saw a maiden in a white dress running toward the youth.

The girl was lovely, her age similar to Zhou Qing’s.

“Ao Tian? A fine name. If only paired with the surname Long, it would be truly formidable,” Zhou Qing mused silently, amused at the girl’s address.

But as he was about to turn away, another figure drew his attention—a woman in a pale purple dress following behind the maiden. She appeared slightly older, perhaps three or four years Zhou Qing’s senior, yet her beauty was unmatched, utterly unique in the world.

In two lifetimes, Zhou Qing had never seen a woman who could compare to her. Graceful and elegant, she walked quietly in the maiden’s wake, appearing at the riverbank.

Her beauty was so rare that Zhou Qing could not look away. Yet his reason for lingering on the river’s surface was not her loveliness, but the purple handkerchief she held.

The handkerchief was partly hidden in her grasp, but its embroidered edge caught Zhou Qing’s eye, for it was strikingly familiar—he possessed one much like it.

As Zhou Qing stood dumbstruck, gazing at her handkerchief, the youth called Ao Tian gently stroked the maiden’s head, then looked toward the purple-robed woman.

“Junior Sister Yunxi!” he called, his face displaying infatuation.

“Senior Brother Ao Tian!” she replied, nodding to Long Ao Tian before turning her gaze to the river.

At that moment, Zhou Qing stood on the river’s surface in a striking crimson robe, drawing Yunxi’s eyes. Their gazes met, and Zhou Qing sensed a familiarity, while a fleeting confusion crossed her exquisite face.

Having overheard Long Ao Tian address her as Yunxi, Zhou Qing stepped closer and called out, “Lin Yunxi?”

At the sound of her name, the purple-robed woman smiled, her previously impassive face brightening.

Zhou Qing returned her smile, recalling that they had met seven years prior—she had saved his life then.

When Zhou Qing spoke her name, Long Ao Tian and the maiden both turned their curious, puzzled eyes on him.

“Sister! Do you remember me?”

Seeing the beautiful smile on her face, Zhou Qing moved closer and asked, showing the handkerchief the girl who had saved him seven years ago left behind.

Yunxi smiled and nodded, stepping toward him.

“I recall when we met, you were but a young novice. Yet your vivid crimson robe left a strong impression.”

“It was thanks to your kindness that I survived. At the time, things were too hurried for me to properly thank you.” Zhou Qing bowed deeply. “Thank you, Sister.”

“No need for thanks. Who would have thought that after such a brief meeting years ago, fate would bring us together again today?”

Hearing their exchange, the maiden hurried to Yunxi’s side and took her arm.

“Senior Sister, you know this cultivator?”

“Seven years ago, when Master took me down the mountain for training, we met once.” Yunxi replied, then conversed briefly with Zhou Qing, learning his name and the reason for his presence at the lake.

Through their conversation, Zhou Qing learned more about Yunxi as well. She was a disciple of the White Cloud Sect; the maiden, named Yun Ruo, was her junior sister, and Long Ao Tian, too, was a disciple of White Cloud, though of a different branch.

The reason White Cloud disciples were here was because, not far behind the river, there lay a wild forest where something had occurred, prompting their arrival.