Reversing Falsehood and Preserving Truth: All Gods and Gods Are in My Hands

The setting sun cast long shadows of the teaching building, and the last rays of sunlight fell on the desks, making the chalk dust glow with a warm light.

Liu Jing stood at the classroom door, watching the last student walk out of the corridor—a boy who was usually quiet and reserved. After taking a few steps, he turned back and said, "Teacher Liu, thank you for your hard work." His voice was soft, but it warmed her heart.

She watched the boy's figure disappear around the corner, a gentle smile playing on her lips.

Over the years, she refused a formal position with the Bureau of Truth and returned to her hometown to become an ordinary teacher, all for this moment—that whether human or unmutated spirit, everyone could safely spend their youthful years under her protection.

A cool evening breeze blew by, carrying the crisp scent of leaves, and suddenly a familiar soft call came from behind: "Xiao Jing."

Liu Jing's body stiffened abruptly, her blood seemingly freezing instantly. She hadn't heard that title in many years.

She slowly turned around, and in the glow of the setting sun, stood a pair of familiar figures.

My father no longer wore that police uniform; his temples were streaked with white, and the wrinkles around his eyes were much deeper than I remembered. Yet he still stood tall with his hands behind his back, just like when he returned home from duty in the old days, exuding a reassuring calmness.

My mother was wearing a simple floral shirt and carrying a bamboo basket. The edge of the oil paper peeking out from the basket was the packaging of the osmanthus cake that she loved to eat as a child. Her smile was as gentle as the warm spring sun. My mother was also a kind teacher back then.

"Dad, Mom..."

Liu Jing's voice trembled almost imperceptibly, and her eyes instantly reddened. Those deliberately sealed-away images suddenly broke free of their shackles, surging into her mind—

During the Spring Festival celebration that year, the bustling square suddenly descended into chaos. Some people were enveloped in mist and their limbs were contorted. She later learned that these were called phantoms.

At that time, my father had no idea what spirits were. He thought it was just a sudden riot and, disregarding his rare vacation, turned and rushed into the crowd. His steps grew heavier and heavier, and the foreign sensation under his skin felt like ants gnawing at him, but he still shouted at the top of his lungs, "This way, don't push!" Until the very last moment, when his body began to change uncontrollably, he still maintained the guiding posture and did not harm a single person.

In the chaos, the mother saw a baby slip from its stroller and fall into the icy river. Without a second thought, she jumped in. The frigid water instantly drained all her strength. She swam desperately to the baby, but her body began to mutate uncontrollably. Tiny tentacles emerged from beneath her skin, showing no malice, but instead gently cradling the swaddled infant as if holding a fragile treasure. The baby was saved, but the mother's body slowly sank to the bottom.

There were also the scenes of the Guardian Bureau rushing to the scene at top speed, and the sword fights during the suppression of the mutated phantoms in order to control the chaos. Those images were like needles piercing her heart, and they have not faded away for more than ten years.

"Silly child, what are you standing there for?" Her mother quickly stepped forward, reaching out to touch her cheek. "We've retired, so we came to see you and brought you some osmanthus cake, from the same shop you loved when you were little."

Her father also came over, his gaze sweeping over the campus behind her. His tone carried the sternness of an old policeman, yet also an undisguised tenderness: "I heard you're a teacher here. That's good, it's peaceful."

Liu Jing followed her parents into the dormitory. The small room was neatly tidied, and the desk was piled with homework from the class waiting to be graded. Her mother opened a bamboo basket and took out osmanthus cakes wrapped in oil paper. The aroma instantly filled the air, exactly the same as the taste in her memory.

"These past years, it must have been tough for you all by yourself, hasn't it?" Her mother sat by the bed, gently holding her hand. The calluses on her fingertips had a familiar feel to them, marks left from years of holding chalk. "Back then, I always taught you that a teacher must treat every student with utmost care, no matter how rebellious they are or how bad their grades are, you can't give up on them. Have you done that?"

Liu Jing nodded, tears finally streaming down her face, dripping onto her mother's hand: "I did it. They're all doing well. Some are mischievous, some are introverted, and some... are a little different from others, but I've stayed with them all and haven't given up on any of them."

She didn't say that those "different" ones were ethereal spirits, nor did she mention how many times she used the power of purification to quietly appease the students who were about to undergo mutations. She didn't mention that when facing the executors, in order not to provoke more ethereal spirits, she could only endure the backlash of the power of the Great Dao and lead them to the deserted outskirts to deal with them.

Her father sat in the chair opposite her, looking at her reddened eyes, his tone steady yet powerful: "I've been a policeman my whole life, and I believe I've lived up to my badge and uniform. No matter what danger I faced, I never backed down." He paused, his gaze softening, "Now you're a teacher, taking care of these children. Dad believes you can do better than I did. Dad is proud of you."

Liu Jing covered her mouth, choked with sobs, unable to speak. She would always remember the "protection" that her parents had taught her with their lives.

"Dad, Mom, thank you." Liu Jing wiped away her tears, her eyes hardening. "Over the years, I've always remembered your words and done my best to protect those around me. I haven't let you down." Looking at her parents' familiar faces, her heart felt filled with something, yet also sharp with pain—this was an illusion, a dream woven from falsehood, but she really wanted to stay a little longer, to hear her parents talk a little more.

But she can't.

There were students waiting for her outside, people who needed her protection: Lu Yu, Su Wan, Zhao Lei, Chen Mo, and the teachers and students still trapped in the illusion. She couldn't indulge in this false warmth and forget her vow.

"Dad, Mom, I have to go." Liu Jing stood up, her voice filled with reluctance yet unusually firm, "I still have people to protect, I can't stay here forever."

The smiles on the father and mother's faces froze for a moment, their eyes filled with confusion: "Where are you going? School's over already, shouldn't you be resting in your dorm?"

"No, thank you." Liu Jing shook her head, tears streaming down her face again. "Thank you for coming to see me. I missed you all so much."

She bowed deeply, her back ramrod straight: "From now on, I will live well, protect those children, and carry on with your expectations of me."

The moment the words fell, the room began to tremble slightly, the sunlight filtering through the window became distorted, and the figures of the parents gradually became transparent, like smoke being blown away by the wind.

The mother reached out, as if wanting to touch her cheek again, but ultimately turned into specks of light. The father's eyes were full of reluctance, his lips moved, but he couldn't utter a final word, leaving only a strong afterimage.

"Goodbye, Dad, Mom," Liu Jing said softly, tears blurring her vision.

The illusion completely dissipated, and what lay before them was no longer the cozy dormitory, but the backdrop of "Carefree Wonderland." Not far away, Lu Yu, Su Wan, Zhao Lei, and Chen Mo stood there, their eyes filled with worry.

Lu Yu's Blade of Deception still gleamed with a faint golden light, clearly indicating that he had just prepared for battle; Su Wan's spiritual silver light flickered weakly at her fingertips, her face showing lingering fatigue; Zhao Lei clenched his fists, anxiously trying to step forward, but was held back by Chen Mo; Chen Mo's vertical line of insight had dimmed, his eyes filled with understanding and respect.

"Teacher Liu," Lu Yu called softly, his tone full of caution, "We've been waiting for you for a long time."

Liu Jing raised her hand to wipe away the tears from the corners of her eyes, a gentle yet resolute smile curving her lips. Although the illusion was fake, her parents' teachings and that belated farewell were truly etched in her heart. She still had unfinished responsibilities, and people to protect; she could not linger any longer, and could only carry this longing and determination forward.

"Sorry to keep you waiting." Her voice was slightly hoarse, but exceptionally clear. "Let's go. There are still many people who need us."