Overdraw the future and become a peerless martial god

Chapter 154 Gentle Trap
At that moment, the surrounding sound surged back, and a gentle yet familiar female voice suddenly escaped from her bloodied mouth:

"Chu... Ning..."

The voice was soft and gentle, like a whisper in the wind or a gentle rain soothing the heart.

However, this sentence struck Chu Ning's mind like a thunderbolt.

His body jolted violently, and his eyes trembled.

That was Qingli's voice.

Not just similar, they're practically identical.

It's not just about the tone.

Even the tone of voice, the slight tremor at the end of the note, and the frequency of her breaths were the most authentic part of her memory.

"……impossible."

Chu Ning felt as if a cold hand was pressing down on his chest.

He bit his tongue hard, spitting out a mouthful of blood mist, and forced himself to calm down.

But at that moment, his feet swayed, and the world suddenly changed.

—The sound illusion has been created.

Unbeknownst to him, he had been unknowingly dragged into a realm of illusion by the haunting female singer.

This is not the inner landscape of the sea of ​​consciousness, but a complete illusory world.

—Her voice never attacks head-on.

It's like water dripping on stone, piercing your soul and heart, seeking out the softest, most unguarded corner of your heart, and then, without you even realizing it, adjusting your whole world to the way it wants you to be.

The wind and snow stopped, and the ice field turned into a meadow.

The world felt like early spring, with gentle sunlight, birdsong, and a warm, pleasant atmosphere.

Chu Ning stood in a quiet valley, surrounded by green grass on the slopes, with several horses with bright coats grazing peacefully not far away.

He paused for a moment, then turned around.

Qingli stood behind him, holding a cloth in her hand, hanging up the washed clothes to dry.

She wore a light blue coarse cloth dress, her hair was simply styled in a bun, and two small fox-shaped jade beads dangled from her ears. Her eyes were as gentle as ever.

She smiled at him.

"You're back?"

The voice was no longer shrill and mournful, but rather ordinary and gentle, as if they had never experienced that tearing and death.

"...Qingli?"

Chu Ning's heart skipped a beat, and her throat tightened.

"Why are you still standing there?" Qingli gently brushed his temple. "Didn't you say that once everything was over, you wanted to come and live in a place like this?"

She gently took his hand and led him through a fenced path. Smoke curled from the chimney in the courtyard, freshly woven cloth hung to dry under the eaves, and several plum trees were in full bloom by the wall.

She turned around, looked up at him, and asked softly:

"Chu Ning...are you...tired?"

"You came from being a hunter, step by step, to where you are now, carrying so much on your shoulders."

"From now on... let's stop fighting and killing."

"You go herd horses, and I'll stay home weaving cloth. We'll plant in spring, cultivate in summer, harvest in autumn, and store in winter... How about we live like this for the rest of our lives?"

At that moment, Chu Ning's heart truly wavered.

He was indeed tired.

Every step he took was too heavy, every night he carried too many names on his shoulders. He lost too much, and he bore too much burden.

At that moment, he even forgot that he was in the middle of a battle.

The grass and trees sway gently, the wind blows across the valley, a row of bamboo fences rustles softly in the wind, and several white geese stroll leisurely in the yard, stepping over the mottled bluestone path.

Chu Ning sat in front of the door, sharpening a hoe in his hand. His left hand was extremely dexterous, his movements slow but steady.

The sound of a spinning wheel turning came from inside the room; Qingli was weaving cloth.

Everything was so peaceful, as if even time itself couldn't bear to disturb it.

As night fell, wisps of smoke rose from the chimneys. Qingli gently stir-fried vegetables, the firelight illuminating the fine hairs on her forehead and her smile. Chu Ning sat by the stove, peeling radishes while listening to her chatter about whose cat in the east of the village had stolen fish again.

After the meal, the two sat side by side on the veranda. Qingli nestled on his shoulder and whispered, "Do you remember when we first met, you were just an ordinary hunter?"

Chu Ning chuckled: "Did you take a liking to me, a little hunter, at first sight?" Qing Li smiled and pursed her lips: "Don't flatter yourself, no."

The two smiled at each other.

As the night deepened, the moon rose above the eaves.

They made the bed together, and Qingli leaned against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"Chu Ning," she said softly, "now, do you finally feel... like you're alive?"

Chu Ning murmured, "Yes."

"Like being alive."

This soft whisper seemed to pierce through mountains and rivers, striking the deepest void in his heart.

In countless nights of bloodshed and the tearing of lightning, he had never been so clearly aware of how long it had been since he had felt "alive".

He seemed to have finally shed that shell of thunderous bones, no longer the Five Thunder Heavenly Heart, no longer the martial arts school master, no longer the deadly blade-wielder.

He's just a person, someone who lives a simple life, dealing with the mundane details of daily life.

……

He gazed at Qingli's back as she sat cross-legged weaving, and suddenly remembered the drawings he had made in his youth.

Those structures used to support the fantastical array of sights, those imagined floating buildings and growing streets.

But in the end, what touched him the most was the thatched hut in the valley.

“If… I hadn’t gotten involved back then…” he said softly.

Qingli turned to look at him: "Then what will you do?"

He smiled and slowly replied, "Perhaps I will come here to build a house, farm the land, repair bridges and houses for passersby, raise a dog, and raise a herd of horses."

"Do you still want to now?" she asked seriously.

Chu Ning looked at her for a long time, then nodded gently: "I want to."

The wind ruffled her hair, brushing against his cheek. He reached out to brush the stray hairs from her forehead, his palm touching her warm, soft skin.

At that moment, he really wanted to stay there forever.

As he gazed at Qing Li's gentle features, a thought gradually surfaced in his mind:
"If I just stop here, would it actually be a kind of happiness?"

The world seemed to stand still forever. A spring breeze swept by, carrying the sweet scent of grass that had washed away the carnage. His hand had already reached out and was slowly approaching Qingli's cheek.

But just as their fingertips were about to touch,

—Another voice suddenly rang out in his heart.

Are you really willing to accept this?

The voice was deep and resonant, like a gentle tap on the depths of his soul. He shuddered and faltered.

He saw another "self" standing in the distance of the ice and snow, his face blurred but his eyes sharp, coldly gazing at this gentle illusion.

"Are you willing to accept this?" The voice rang out again, echoing in my heart like thunder.

Are you willing to throw away the will you've gained through all the sacrifices in this false peace?

"You willingly let Qingli become a soul after death, so that you can... rest in peace here?"

Chu Ning froze.

He looked back at Qingli's figure, still gentle, still waiting, yet suddenly she seemed distant and blurry.

He finally understood. This wasn't rest; it was escape.

"It turns out that the most dangerous prison is not the curse, nor the enemy..."

"It's not that someone wants to hold onto a gentle heart."

He slowly closed his eyes and whispered his resolve.

"sorry."

The next moment, a thunderous explosion resounded deep within his consciousness.

Five thunderclaps resounded simultaneously.

Chu Ning suddenly opened his eyes, his sword energy shattering his dream, thunder piercing the sky.

The illusion shattered, and the world returned to its cold state.

(End of this chapter)