Secrets of the Library
Mi‑An returned to the sect, her mind a storm of confusion and grief. The memories of Xiao Yan dissolving into the wind, the chaos with Nem, the Ansha's cryptic presence—everything pressed heavily on her chest. She moved with purpose toward the library, the only place that had ever offered her solace, the only space that felt like it could hold answers.
The rows of ancient tomes and scrolls stood silent, their pages whispering faintly with untold histories. Yet her intuition told her that something important awaited, hidden just beyond sight. She wandered deeper into the stacks, her fingertips brushing against the worn spines of texts older than the sect itself.
Then, a figure appeared.
Greenish, faintly glowing, radiating calm yet overwhelming power, the presence made the air vibrate. Mi‑An froze, her breath catching in her throat. Recognition stirred in her mind before she could even speak.
"Mi‑An," the figure said softly, voice like wind over jade stones.
She looked up, trembling. "Who… who are you?"
"I've been waiting for this moment," the figure replied. "Why are you here, while you are supposed to be fighting?"
"What do you mean?" Mi‑An asked, confusion threading her voice.
"Don't you know… yet… who you are?"
Her eyes widened as realization began to dawn. "You… you are Saint Xianzhou—the greatest of the eleven Saints… the one killed by the Ansha?"
The figure laughed softly, a sound both gentle and sharp. "Hahaha… I wasn't killed by the Ansha. He isn't your enemy."
Mi‑An staggered back. "What!?"
"The real enemy," Saint Xianzhou continued, his eyes grave, "is Nem. He is the Devil God."
The words struck her like a blade. She collapsed into tears. "Devil God? How can that be?"
"The one who cursed you… who entered your room… the one Di'or…" Saint Xianzhou's voice faltered briefly. "…he is the Devil God Tie Nem."
Mi‑An shook her head, disbelieving. "I… I don't understand. What do you mean?"
"One thousand years ago," Saint Xianzhou explained, his tone heavy with the weight of history, "the demons could not defeat the Ansha. No matter how they combined their forces, they failed. So Nem—the Devil God—and the Evil God conspired to kill him. The battle was catastrophic. Saints and immortals rushed to the Celestial Realm to aid in the fight… but we all fell. Only the Ansha survived, gravely injured. He pushed Xiao Yan to rebuild the realm, but Xiao Yan… lost his memories."
"Why… why is Nem working with Xiao Yan now?" Mi‑An asked, her voice trembling.
"He wants Xiao Yan to bear responsibility for the Ansha's death. When his memories return, grief will consume him… and he may even take his own life."
Mi‑An's hands clenched, knuckles white. "That snake… but… why are you telling me this?"
"Because you are my daughter. The Ansha brought you back to survive," Saint Xianzhou said, fading slightly, his glow dimming.
Mi‑An's tears fell freely. "Father…" she whispered, her voice breaking.
"Does Lu Qi know?" she asked, wiping her face, voice choked with urgency.
"No. Only Gil U. He is Nem's accomplice. And the Ansha cannot tell Xiao Yan—he wouldn't believe it, even when Nem impersonated him."
Mi‑An collapsed to her knees, shaking. "Father… my husband… what must I do?"
"The bell," Saint Xianzhou said, his voice now barely a whisper. "It is capable… of killing him."
"Father!" Mi‑An cried, rising, her resolve hardening as her tears streaked her face. She ran from the library and collided with Di'or.
"Have they gone yet? They need to be stopped!" she demanded, urgency igniting her every word.
"What!? They're already on the cliff!" Di'or shouted, alarm spreading across her face.
Mi‑An didn't hesitate. Her heart pounded as she raced forward, mind set with deadly focus. Xiao Yan and Nem were alone… and the Ansha awaited them.
Every step she took carried the weight of her newfound knowledge, every heartbeat a drum of impending confrontation. The Golden Eternal Bell—the one weapon capable of controlling the fates of gods—was within reach, and she knew the coming moments would decide not only her husband's destiny, but the balance of the world itself.