ATLAS TRANSLATES

He returned to Fengdu City once again.

The ghosts all stared at this fool who forced his way across the River of Forgetfulness. He had only been gone a short while before dying again, and such a horrible death it was — truly an awful sight.

“Isn’t he the one who crossed the River of Forgetfulness? Wasn’t he always waiting by the bridge before? Did he find who he was waiting for?”

“Doesn’t seem like it. Either something happened to that person in the mortal realm, or their sins were too great and they’re locked in the King of Hell’s palace.”

The young man said nothing. He just bought more lanterns and continued releasing them by the river.

The eternal lanterns drifted on the water. The one who waited remained, while the one being waited for could never return.

Everyone thought he would give up after some time, but the lanterns on the river only grew more numerous with each passing year.

The young man no longer forced anything.

He simply released lanterns in silence, using his remaining years to find a way to gather her soul and rebuild her body.

He wrote on the lanterns with brush and ink, letting the words fall into the River of Forgetfulness. The whole river glowed with light, hazy in the mist. He sat for a while longer, drawing a small peach blossom in the corner. It started to rain.

Once all the lanterns were released and his merit was spent, he would descend to hell.

Before that, he had just one wish — to give her a proper burial.

Even if the whole world forgot her.

He would love her silently.

Leave proof that she once existed in the mortal world.

That would be enough.

He walked under the dim sky with his hands in his pockets, his sash floating gently.

They said there was a sage in northern Fengdu City who knew all things under heaven. The young man clenched his fist, a tiny spark of hope igniting in his heart. At the north of the city, an old man sat on a meditation cushion with closed eyes and said slowly: “I know of you.”

The young man asked: “If someone is struck by heavenly lightning, do they truly scatter to the winds?”

The old man replied: “Yes and no.”

“The soul will be scattered by lightning, but strictly speaking, it still exists in this world. If you can find a way to gather their soul and rebuild their body, they might return.”

“Then sir… do you know how to gather a soul?”

“I do. But it won’t work for her. I know who you want to bring back to life. Unfortunately, she is not in the cycle of reincarnation. I have some knowledge of astrology. The year she became famous, the emperor called us to read her fate — it was completely blank.”

The lantern in the young man’s hand fell.

The old man built suspense, saying: “But there might be a way.”

He turned his head: “I can peek at heaven’s secrets for you. If there is a way to gather her soul and rebuild her body, I will tell you. But first, you must do something for me.”

The young man asked: “What is it?”

A dark fire seemed to burn in the old man’s eyes as he said: “Return to the mortal realm — return and kill that worthless swine who betrayed me! In life I was a teacher who shared everything I knew, only to watch him commit evil with others, betray our relationship, and harm his fellow disciples. You were a general in life — if you could cross the River of Forgetfulness as a mortal, you can certainly help me clean house!”

Blood flowed from his eye sockets as they trembled. Only then did the young man notice the old man was blind, with all his fingernails missing.

The young man lowered his eyes, rare respect in his tone as he cupped his hands: “I promise you, sir.”

So the old man used his ghost form to peek at heaven’s secrets, counting on his fingers before coughing up dark red blood and clutching his chest. He told him: “There is a place in the world called the City of Silence. Within it grows a strange flower called the Mist Flower. If you pick it and bind your personal item to it, you can rebuild her body.”

He paused: “Even I don’t fully understand this method of soul gathering shown in heaven’s secrets…”

The young man looked at him fearlessly, as if he would brave any difficulty.

But the old man said: “I only saw seven words.”

“When peach blossoms snow covers the hills.”

But how could peach blossoms ever cover hills like snow?

Under everyone’s watchful eyes, the young man crossed the River of Forgetfulness once more. That year, it rained in Fengdu City. Soaking wet, he made his way to the path of reincarnation.

Thinking, finally, he could see her again.

For the young woman, he could pacify the border wrapped in horsehide, and he could willingly give his life.

His first task upon returning to the mortal realm was to avenge the old man. Then he searched everywhere for the legendary City of Silence.

The City of Silence was overrun with ghosts and monsters, flickering in and out of the mist.

The young man returned to his previous life’s domain of Xishan with the hard-won Mist Flower.

He dug a grave, planted a peach blossom grove, and tied the red hair ribbon he had shot from her head that year to the Mist Flower.

The mist suddenly cleared. Looking up, he saw brilliant peach blossoms, their radiance impenetrable to sunlight. The young man stared dumbly at the gorgeous swirls on the peach blossom branches as the world’s spiritual energy gathered.

Her body gradually appeared, but it was just an empty shell without soul or spirit.

The young woman lay quietly with closed eyes, hands crossed over her chest, among a heap of beautiful petals.

A deep fragrance dispersed, utterly intoxicating. The wind gently stirred her hair as butterflies landed at the corners of her eyes.

He raised his hand to shoo them away, lowering his gaze to study her features: dark eyebrows, snow-white cheeks, orange-red lips like apricots, messy bangs on her forehead like dark jade mixed with scattered misty light — unconsciously making one want to pinch them.

Who would have thought? A girl who looked so refined had such a lively personality.

Holding her remains, he showed his first smile in many years.

He combed her hair.

He tied her hair ribbon.

He placed snacks beside her.

He dressed her in beautiful clothes and laid her in the coffin.

Then in the drizzling spring rain of peach blossoms, he closed the black coffin. He erected a stone tablet.

On it was carved: The grave of my beloved Xue Xiaojiu.

Later, feeling too self-conscious about these words, he replaced it with just three characters: Xue Xiaojiu.

The young man held an umbrella, supported by the person he sheltered. Again and again he crossed the single-plank bridge, memories unturned. So he always knelt before her grave in the magnificent peach grove. Calm, happy, persistent in waiting — waiting for the day when peach blossoms would cover the hills like snow.

From the first to the fifteenth of each month.

From full moon to new moon.

Spring, summer, autumn, winter.

Peach blossoms bloomed then withered, died then bloomed again.

“When you were alive. I loved you. I also resented you. Resented that you didn’t recognize me. Resented that I was just an insignificant ghost in your life. Later I heard about your past, heard about your loves and hatreds, heard about those important to you. When I listened, they spoke of you, you were in my heart, but you were no longer before my eyes…”

“Xue Xiaojiu, I’ve always wanted to know, that day when I died for you, were you moved at all?”

The young man lowered his eyes as peach blossoms fell on him again.

He lifted his eyelids to see the young woman in peach-colored clothes bending down.

She held a kite with upturned wings, set it down, and gently poked his forehead: “That’s too complicated. I’m not sure… can you ask something simpler?”

The young man pointed at the brilliant peach blossoms above, asking: “Do you like this peach grove?”

She said: “I do.”

The young man pressed: “Then can you stay here? With me.”

After a moment of silence.

“Dream on! You just know how to scold me, you even tore my clothes and didn’t help fix them. And you don’t know how to comfort me!”

She crossed her arms with an unfriendly tone, cheeks slightly red, braids standing up.

Peach blossoms fell behind her.

The young man woke up. But found himself still leaning against her gravestone. His forehead hurt a little. And was a bit cold.

He could no longer control his emotions. He dragged his numb body up, cast a loving look at the peach grove, and picked up a broom to clean her gravestone one last time.

New Year’s Day. Snow fell.

He hadn’t waited for the peach blossoms to bloom. He drew a knife from his sleeve, knelt before her grave, and stabbed himself in the heart.

In those seconds as blood drained from his body, the young man pressed his forehead against her gravestone, his lips curving into a smile.

If he couldn’t make peach blossoms snow-cover the hills.

Then, let peach blossoms blood-cover the hills.

The bare branches stained with blood, the shadow that had long shrouded Xishan finally dispersed, winter sunlight spread over the young man’s rigid body.

With his last strength, he placed an embroidered peach blossom on her gravestone.

From then on, dying for love was no longer just an ancient legend.

After suffering through many lifetimes, he could finally be reborn as an immortal in the next life.

While still in the King of Hell’s palace, he already knew this outcome. A mortal being reborn as an immortal was a great fortune that came once in a thousand years. Fengdu City exploded with discussion, passing spirit officials and ghosts all urged him not to cross the River of Forgetfulness again. Becoming a cultivator would lead to limitless prospects!

The young man quietly released his final lantern, stood up from the riverbank, and turned back: “This time, I will drink voluntarily.”

When peach blossoms snow-cover the hills. Her soul will return.

He suddenly understood how to make peach blossoms bloom in bitter winter.

To prevent his next life from completely forgetting what needed to be done, he carved words on his three-lives stone, hoping his sword in the next life must be called: Peach Source Sword.

Peach Source Sword must be his life-bound sword.

If he meets her, he must not harm her.

After doing all this, the young man drank the soup of forgetfulness and stepped onto the gray path of reincarnation.

Year 3702 of the Solution Era.

A boy was born to the He Lian family. When he came into the world, auspicious signs appeared. He didn’t cry or make a fuss. The mountain master calculated his fate and made an exception to take him as the head disciple.

Surname He Lian, given name simply “Sheng.”

At his birth celebration, ignoring the fine ceremonial robes and tools nearby, he grabbed a fallen peach blossom. The He Lian family head rubbed his forehead, though his wife remained quite calm.

In his youth, He Lian Sheng had no interest in swordplay but was quite interested in magic. From a pile of advanced magic texts, he picked out the most basic one to read.

The mountain master asked what he was reading.

He said he was reading magic to make peach blossoms bloom.

The mountain master smiled and said: “Little Lian, why do you always like things related to peach blossoms? You grabbed one at your birth celebration, filled your courtyard with them, and even named your life-bound sword Peach Source Sword.”

He Lian Sheng looked up at his master, coldly saying: “I don’t know. Maybe I’m bored.”

The conversation ended.

He Lian Sheng truly didn’t know.

He just had a feeling that he must learn this magic, and his life-bound sword must be called Peach Source Sword.

That year in deep winter. Snow fell heavily on Spirit Mountain, floating down in flurries. Spirit Mountain cultivators wore their ceremonial robes to class, accidentally slipping on ice and nearly falling down the celestial stairs, cursing angrily.

But upon standing up and looking ahead, they saw a splash of peach color appear in the white world! Peach blossoms like twilight fire, running riot amid ice and snow, their fragrance filling sleeves. Before them was an extraordinary sight — peach blossoms blooming all over the mountain!!!

“Tsk tsk tsk these winter peach trees are blooming so lovely!! Senior Brother He Lian’s courtyard peach blossoms are blooming most vigorously! But better not pick them, Senior Brother He Lian has a bad temper. He probably made the peach blossoms bloom!!”

When peach blossoms snow-covered the hills. And so —

Year 3720 of the Solution Era. Xing Shuishui was reborn.

He Lian Sheng descended the mountain to capture demons. Met Water.

At this moment, the cause and effect of several hundred years finally completed its circle.