Bitter Realm: A Happy Person Traveling Across China

Chapter 76 As long as we don't die, we'll meet again (Bonus chapter for Happy May Day)

Having left the Glazed Wonderland, Ye Jinming returned to his own Ashes Green Pine.

Lying on the recliner, Ye Jinming waved his black fan, the breeze caressing his face, yet unable to dispel the thoughtful contemplation between his brows.

The mad dragon let out a laugh—this mad dog seems determined to go up against me. Given his madness, the next time we meet, it will surely be an even more dangerous death trap.

With my current strength, I am not afraid of him, but I cannot kill him either.

It's time to find a "knife" that is sharp enough, reliable enough, and "appropriate" enough.

Thoughts flashed through my mind, faces appeared and disappeared one after another —

Finally, Yu Renfeijing's perpetually troubled face appeared.

However, although the Feathered Man is strong, in a one-on-one fight, his chances of defeating the Mad Dragon are probably only 40% or 60%, and he may even be taken advantage of by the Mad Dragon through trickery.

It seems we need to add an extra layer of insurance for him.

For example, Yu Ren Fei Jing's destined one, the other half of Dao Ji Kan Mo—Yan Gui Ren!

Thinking of this, Ye Jinming's lips curled slightly.

There's no rush. With Mu Shaoai's official retirement, he now has one more chance to draw a card. He can use one to play around with while he has some free time.

"System, use one extraction opportunity."

"Ding! Command confirmed. Extraction of all realms, initiating!"

Deep within the sea of ​​consciousness, the enormous illusory wheel reappeared, its bizarre patterns spinning rapidly before finally stopping with a profound hum.

"Ding! Congratulations, host, you have drawn a special item—[King Yama's Feather]"

(From the Nine Realms of Golden Light, the vessel used by Xu Fu, the Chief of the Death Division, to transfer consciousness)

The moment the notification sound rang, a strange object, about three inches long and entirely dark, resembling a bird's feather, with an eerie halo flowing across its surface, appeared out of thin air in Ye Jinming's palm. It was icy to the touch and faintly exuded a chilling aura that made people uneasy.

At the same time, detailed information about this object flooded his mind:

The King of Hell's Feather is a forbidden artifact painstakingly crafted by Xu Fu of the Bureau of Death. Based on an unknown extraterrestrial crystal and refined using secret methods, it can completely house and transfer the caster's entire personality, memories, and consciousness. Once pierced into a specific acupoint on the back of the target's neck, it will be forcibly activated, covering, merging with, and even completely replacing the host's original consciousness with the consciousness it carries, achieving an extremely domineering and nearly unsolvable "consciousness possession."

Usage restrictions: There are not many requirements for the host's physical body, but special ones are not allowed. Otherwise, forced use may damage the carrier or cause the consciousness fusion to fail. For example, a half-human, half-human body or a specially modified and spliced ​​body cannot bear the complete consciousness of the "Death Slayer".

"The King of Hell's Feather—" Ye Jinming gently stroked the cold, eerie feather with his fingertips, a strange light flashing in his eyes, which then turned into a peculiar contemplation. "Last time it was Xu Fu's Sacred Heart Technique from 'Storm Riders,' this time it's 'Golden Light.'"

"Xu Fu's King of Hell Feather" — Twice in a row, it's linked to Xu Fu from different worlds. Could this extraction system be somehow connected to the name "Xu Fu"?

He suddenly thought of a possibility, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly: "If I were to draw again now—could I draw some kind of Xu Fu specialty from another world, another version? Like Xu Fu from the Qin Dynasty, or Xu Fu from Corpse Brother—"

A sudden chill ran through Ye Jinming, who quickly stopped this dangerous thought and carefully put away the Yama King Feather.

Although this thing is strange, if used properly, it might have a miraculous effect in certain key situations. However, for now, without a host, it's just a useless thing.

Then, Ye Jinming, still unconvinced, silently chanted in his mind again, "One more draw!"

"Ding—Start extraction—Extraction in progress..."

"Congratulations, host, you have obtained: Soul Control Technique (Fragment)"

A massive influx of information flooded Ye Jinming's mind. He felt a splitting headache, but he forced himself to process it.

"Heart and Soul Control Technique—" Ye Jinming murmured to himself, his eyes gradually brightening. "It can temper the mind and strengthen spiritual power, and even use the mind as a guide to control people's souls and defend against enemies invisibly—but it can only forcibly control people whose spiritual power is inferior to one's own."

""

It's a fun thing, but I don't have any subordinates or power, otherwise this thing could have allowed me to expand my power quickly.

But in the battle for supremacy in the Bitter Realm, whoever comes first dies, so let's forget about it.

However, it's not like there's no use for it. After all, one always needs a foundation, even if it's done in secret.

I just hope I don't draw anything related to "Xu Fu" next time; it feels a bit unlucky.

Putting aside his distracting thoughts, Ye Jinming discerned his direction, his figure transformed into light, and he descended towards a desolate and lonely place in his memory, where he placed a solitary lamp!

A lone lamp burns low, the setting sun bleeds like blood, and a cold wind howls.

This place was already desolate, and the lonely figure sitting by that solitary lamp only added to the melancholy.

Yu Renfei held an erhu in his arms, plucking the strings. The mournful and plaintive music drifted on the wind, as if telling a story of sorrow and confusion that no one could understand.

Yu Renfei closed his eyes, completely immersed in his music and thoughts.

The master, lonely and desolate, chose to stay in the desolate forest to live out his remaining years. It was a liberation, but it also caused him to lose the support of his mentor and father.

It was a good thing that his close friend Mu Shaoai took Ajiu to retreat to the mountains, but it also made him feel even more lonely.

Although Gui Liangbingfu's out-of-control strike was classified as a "demonic conspiracy," the sense of guilt stained with blood remained undeniable.

The music grew increasingly desolate, like the mournful cry of a lone goose or the blood-soaked lament of a crow.

At that very moment—

"Tap, tap, tap—"

A steady, unhurried footstep came from afar, shattering the deathly silence under the solitary lamp and invading this desolate world shrouded in the sound of the zither.

Immediately following, a clear, melodious, and somewhat unrestrained poetic voice drifted in on the wind, creating a strange contrast with the mournful zither music: "A sword hangs in the vast emptiness, a thousand sharp edges hidden; my body rests lightly in the boundless expanse. I laugh as I watch the vicissitudes of human life; why leave a trace to disturb the moon's brightness?"

As the poetry faded, Ye Jinming, dressed in spotless white robes, slowly stepped into this desolate land.

His gaze swept across the solitary lamp, finally settling on the winged figure playing the zither beneath it, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Yu Ren Fei Jing's zither music did not stop because of the newcomer's appearance, but a subtle, imperceptible fluctuation seemed to be injected into the mournful melody.

Ye Jinming didn't disturb him. He simply found a relatively clean rock to sit down and looked at the notes flowing from Yu Renfeijing's fingertips, as if he was quietly appreciating them.

A moment later, he suddenly reached out and made a sweeping motion in the air—

Amidst the flowing light, a seven-stringed zither, as white as jade, with an ancient and simple design and a warm, lustrous sheen, appeared out of thin air on his lap.

The instrument seemed to possess a spirit, radiating a faint glow under the dim light of the solitary lamp and the blood-red setting sun.

Ye Jinming lightly stroked the cool strings with his fingertips, making slight adjustments.

Then, he closed his eyes slightly, then opened them again, his eyes clear and bright.

Ten fingers, like butterflies flitting among flowers, gently landed on the strings.

"Ding-dong"

The first note leaped out, clear and melodious like a spring striking a rock.

Then a series of clear, melodious, yet strangely rhythmic and expansive musical notes flowed from his fingertips.

It is not a forced insertion or cover-up of Yu Renfei's erhu sound, but a clever way, like a stream flowing into a river, or a gentle breeze blowing through the pines, naturally intertwining and blending with the poignant erhu melody!

A strange sight occurred.

The originally mournful and heart-wrenching sound of the erhu seemed to be infused with an invisible vitality and power after Ye Jinming's clear and expansive zither music joined in.

The sorrow remains, but it is no longer the despair of endless sinking; the loneliness is still there, but it has gained a sense of detachment, standing atop a peak and observing the world with a cold eye.

Two timbres, one melancholic and the other clear and melodious, one plaintive and the other unrestrained, intertwine and complement each other, creating a unique, complex, and unexpectedly harmonious melody in this desolate "Lonely Lamp".

As the setting sun gradually sinks, the lone lamp shines ever brighter.

As the song ended, its lingering melody drifted away on the wind.

Yu Renfei pressed down on the trembling strings, slowly opened his eyes, and looked at Ye Jinming, who was sitting calmly with a zither on his lap not far away.

The peculiar ensemble of music just now seemed to have thrown a small pebble into the cold, silent lake of his heart, creating subtle ripples.

"So it was you." Yu Ren Fei Jing's voice was still low and hoarse, with his usual aloofness, but less of the coldness that kept people at arm's length.

Ye Jinming smiled slightly, put away his seven-stringed zither, and said in a casual tone, "Judging from your complexion, you don't seem to be in a good state lately. Is something on your mind?"

"————" Yu Renfei looked away, gazing at the flickering lone lamp, and did not answer.

There are some things he doesn't know how to talk about, and he doesn't want to tell anyone.

Ye Jinming didn't press further, but simply sighed softly, as if talking to himself, or perhaps to Yu Ren: "That's right. With Dugu Que and Mu Shaoai retiring one after another, it's only natural to feel melancholy when one's heart is suddenly filled with emptiness."

Yu Renfei's body trembled almost imperceptibly. Ye Jinming's words accurately captured his current state of mind.

"However," Ye Jinming's tone shifted, becoming firm and powerful, his gaze sharp as he looked at Yu Renfeijing, "there's one thing you should remember—"

—"

He paused, then spoke each word clearly: "As long as we don't die, we will meet again."

These eight words, like a thunderclap, exploded in Yu Renfei Jing's ears, striking directly at something deep within his heart that he had always deliberately avoided.

Yet, there's a corner that holds a hidden longing.

As long as we don't die, we'll meet again eventually?

Yes, Master has merely gone into seclusion; he hasn't died. Mu Shaoai has also simply retired; it's not a final farewell.

As long as we are alive, and as long as this bitter world of martial arts has not come to an end, there will always be a day when we meet again.

Perhaps this parting is only for a better reunion in the future.

Now that Ye Jinming had pointed it out, Yu Renfei felt as if the clouds had parted and the sun was shining through. The heavy burden in his heart seemed to loosen a little. "As long as I don't die, will we meet again someday? —"