I gain ten years' worth of cultivation every day, and even geniuses will only see my doorstep!

The chessboard shattered. The black and white squares, like melting ice, slowly disappeared. The third heaven vanished into the void, replaced by a new curtain of light—the entrance to the fourth heaven.

Qin Yuan looked down at Lin Qing'er. She was still nestled in his arms, her shoulders trembling.

"Don't cry," he said. "There are six more heavens above."

Lin Qing'er raised her head, her eyes red and her face streaked with tears. She looked at the still-bleeding wound on Qin Yuan's chest and gently touched it.

"Does it hurt?"

"It doesn't hurt."

"That's a lie."

Qin Yuan smiled. "Let's go."

He took Lin Qing'er's hand and walked towards the fourth light screen.

Behind them, fragments of the Third Heaven slowly sank into the void, disappearing into the sea like a shipwreck. Ahead, a new light curtain beckoned.

Above all realms, there are nine heavens. Three have already passed. Six more remain.

Qin Yuan's gaze remained as firm as ever.

Behind the light curtain of the fourth heaven lies a world of mirrors.

Countless mirrors floated in the void, varying in size and shape. Some were as large as a palm, others as tall as a mountain; some were round, some square, and some were irregular fragments. Each mirror played different scenes—some showed Qin Yuan's past: the stream behind the Xuan Yuan Sect, the gate of the Tai Yi Sect, and the bloody battle at the War God Hall; some showed Lin Qing'er's past: the old plum tree of the Qing Mu Sect, the days she was tormented by Mu Sangzi, and the days and nights she waited for Qin Yuan's return; and some showed the birth, aging, sickness, and death of strangers. Qin Yuan didn't recognize them, but he could sense the emotions in those scenes—joy, sorrow, anger, and despair.

The mirrors had no fixed arrangement. With each step Qin Yuan took, the mirrors around him rearranged, as if being shuffled by an invisible hand. He could see no exit, no end, only endless mirrors and endless images within them.

"Where is this..." Lin Qing'er looked at herself in a mirror. It showed her when she first entered the Qingmu Sect. She was wearing a light green dress and standing under an old plum tree. Her eyes were filled with expectation and unease.

"The Fourth Heaven." A voice came from all directions, not from any one mirror, but from all the mirrors simultaneously. The voice was emotionless, like a machine reading aloud, but every word was as clear as if someone were whispering in your ear.

The light from all the mirrors converged at the center, forming a giant mirror sphere. The sphere's surface was smooth as a mirror, without any patterns, but it reflected not Qin Yuan and Lin Qing'er's faces, but countless different faces—men, women, the elderly, children, joy, anger, sorrow, happiness, birth, aging, sickness, and death. The sphere cracked open, and a figure emerged from within. It had no fixed shape, like flowing mercury, its surface constantly displaying different faces.

"The gatekeeper of the fourth heaven, the Mirror of Reincarnation," the voice said. "The fact that you've made it this far means that all the trash from the first three heavens is dead. But you can't get past me."

Qin Yuan gripped the Xingtian Sword tightly. "Why?"

"Because this place doesn't test strength," the Mirror of Reincarnation said. "This place tests your inner demons. Your deepest obsessions will become reality here. You cannot escape them."

As soon as he finished speaking, the mirror in front of Qin Yuan began to change. The images in the mirror were no longer past memories, but "the possible selves"—countless Qin Yuans stepped out of the mirror. Some wore black Taoist robes, their eyes cold; these were Qin Yuans who had given up protecting and pursuing absolute power. Some wore tattered clothes, covered in wounds; these were Qin Yuans who remained in some world, no longer striving upwards. Some had white hair, standing alone before a solitary grave; these were Qin Yuans who had failed to save Lin Qing'er and lived on alone.

Each "Qin Yuan" represents his deepest fears, regrets, and desires. They emerge from the mirror and rush towards Qin Yuan.

Qin Yuan swung his sword. The sword energy shattered one mirror, and another immediately emerged from it. He shattered two, and four appeared. Endless.

"It's useless," said the Mirror of Reincarnation. "These obsessions come from within your own heart. As long as you live, these possibilities will always exist. You can't kill them all."

The situation was even worse for Lin Qing'er. In the mirror before her, a woman dressed in blue armor and wielding a long sword stepped out. The woman was dignified and indifferent, her eyes like knives that could pierce one's soul.

The Azure Emperor. Lin Qing'er's past life.

"Why did you abandon your mission from your past life?" the Azure Emperor questioned, his voice like the wind sweeping across ice. "Why don't you continue the cycle of reincarnation to repay your karma? What makes you think you deserve happiness?"

Lin Qing'er opened her mouth, but couldn't speak. Her face was pale, and her hands were trembling. She knew the Azure Emperor was right—she had never repaid the karma she owed from her past life. She had simply escaped, fleeing here with Qin Yuan.

"You are not worthy to stand beside him," said the Azure Emperor. "You are not worthy of his protection. You are nothing but a deserter."

Lin Qing'er knelt down on the ground, tears streaming silently down her face.

Qin Yuan was trapped within the embodiment of obsession, while Lin Qing'er was suffocating under the pressure of the Azure Emperor's questioning. The Mirror of Reincarnation sneered from afar: "You will never escape."

Qin Yuan stopped attacking. He stood still, his obsession lunging at him, tearing at his body, but he did not retaliate. Golden blood flowed from the wounds, dripping onto the mirror with a crisp sound.

"You are me," he said. "I will not kill you."

The manifestations of obsession were stunned. The black-clad Qin Yuan, the tattered Qin Yuan, and the white-haired Qin Yuan all stopped what they were doing and stared at him.

Qin Yuan closed his eyes. He felt every manifestation of his obsession—the fear, regret, and longing deep within his heart. Qin Yuan gave up protecting her because he was too tired and wanted to stop and rest; Qin Yuan lingered in a certain world because there were people in that world he couldn't bear to leave; Qin Yuan failed to save Lin Qing'er because he was afraid of losing her.

These are not his enemies. These are himself.

"I accept you," he said. "You are a part of me."

He opened his eyes and spread his arms. The manifestations of his obsessions transformed into golden specks of light, merging into his body. Not dissipating, not being annihilated, but returning. Each speck of light carried an emotion—weariness, reluctance, fear—but Qin Yuan did not resist; he accepted it all.

Lin Qing'er was still kneeling on the ground. The Azure Emperor stood in front of her, his long sword pointed at her throat.

"You are not qualified," said the Azure Emperor.

Qin Yuan walked to Lin Qing'er's side and helped her to her feet. He looked at the Azure Emperor, his eyes calm.

"You are her past," he said, "not her present. The past is the past. She owes no one anything."

The Azure Emperor looked at him. "What gives you the right to speak for her?"

"Because she is my wife," Qin Yuan said. "I will repay her debts. I will bear her mistakes. I will take responsibility for her past."