Chapter Eighteen: Farewell and Warning

Ning Jiuyou slowly raised her head, looking toward the mountain behind the estate.

This was the very place where Xiao Yan had first found her. Back then, she was unconscious, her memories lost, drifting like helpless duckweed. It was Xiao Yan who had brought her back to the Xiao family, offering her warmth and sanctuary. Thinking of him, her gaze softened. Xiao Yan’s cultivation had finally begun to make progress, and the time they had spent together had left an indelible mark on her heart. From their initial meeting to her stepping in to help him during his cultivation struggles, and the days they spent strolling through the market or facing the provocations of Jialie Ao together—Xiao Yan’s resilience, his diligence, and his genuine concern for her had made her feel a unique bond in this unfamiliar world, a closeness and trust that defied words.

These past few months were the first time she had felt the warmth of a home and the sincerity of friends since arriving in this world. She was deeply grateful for the care shown to her by the Xiao family. At the thought, a faint mist of tears welled up in her eyes.

Just as Ning Jiuyou prepared to leave, her keen senses picked up something unusual. It felt as if a gaze, hidden in the shadows, was keeping a close watch on her. Had this been before, she might not have sensed it, but her strength had improved significantly; she had successfully stabilized her realm at a Seven-Star Dou Zhe. Moreover, during her cultivation, she had discovered a mysterious flame hidden within her. Deep in her memories, a faint voice told her that this flame was called the Netherfire.

She did not know how it had appeared in her body, but she could clearly feel a strange, intimate connection to it. The Netherfire not only refined her Dou Qi and stabilized her realm, but it also nourished her meridians, making them stronger and broader, capable of holding and circulating more power. She even vaguely sensed that her bloodline was undergoing some indescribable change under its influence—a subtle evolution toward a higher plane.

If not for her improved cultivation, she might not have detected the surveillance. She narrowed her eyes. *Does this mean I have been watched like this all along?* As this thought occurred to her, a cold glint flashed in her eyes. A small spark of Netherfire suddenly appeared on her hand; the deep blue flame danced in her palm, radiating a biting chill.

Usually, she had no suitable opportunity to display the Netherfire, so she decided to use this chance to test its power. She looked at a large tree not far away, her gaze sharpening as she flicked a streak of the flame toward it. The Netherfire struck the tree like a blue arrow. Instantly, the tree began to corrode; the bark melted, and a gaping black hole appeared in the trunk. Smoke rose, and within moments, the massive tree was reduced to a pile of ash.

She had been polite enough not to throw it at the person directly, especially since she sensed a familiar aura from them. She had only targeted the tree as a warning, to let the observer know she was not to be trifled with.

After a moment of silence, she looked toward the horizon and whispered to herself, "My memories are incomplete, and my past is shrouded in mist. I will hold the kindness of the Xiao family in my heart, but I have my own path to walk. Only by continuously improving my strength can I hope to pierce through the fog, recover my lost memories, and uncover my origins."

With that, she folded her hands and bowed respectfully toward the gates of the Xiao family estate. "Thank you all. I, Ning Jiuyou, will remember this kindness. When I recover my memories, I will surely return to repay you."

She took a deep breath, turned resolutely, and began to walk away. She grew smaller and smaller as she traveled, until she finally vanished at the end of the road.

***

Xiao Yan, brimming with joy, held the combat technique he had selected from the family’s Dou Qi Pavilion—a manual refined by Ning Jiuyou—and couldn't wait to share it with her. He arrived at her room with an irrepressible smile, calling out, "Jiuyou, are you there? I have good news for you!"

However, after a long wait, there was no response. A sudden, inexplicable sense of panic surged in his chest. Ignoring decorum, he pushed open the door. Standing at the threshold, he looked inside, only to find the room empty.

The combat technique slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor. A feeling of dread took hold of him, as if something vital was slipping away. With anxious eyes, he turned and sprinted toward the back mountain, knowing it was her favorite place to practice and reflect.

He searched the mountain over and over, but found no trace of her. His footsteps slowed, his expression turning blank and dejected. He sat down on the ground, muttering, "Where did she go? Why is she gone? Could she have..."

At that moment, the figure of Yao Lao emerged from the ring. He looked at the distraught Xiao Yan and offered comfort, "Little Yan, don't rush. The girl might have just gone out for supplies. She'll be back soon."

Xiao Yan shook his head repeatedly, his voice trembling. "It’s different this time, Teacher. I have a feeling... a feeling she won’t be coming back."

Yao Lao sighed helplessly. "Given her character, she wouldn't leave without a word. Perhaps she left a letter. Go back to her room and look again."

Hearing this, Xiao Yan grasped at it like a life-saving straw. He bolted upright and sprinted back toward her room. Watching him go, Yao Lao stood there looking momentarily bewildered before chuckling, "This boy, he forgets his master the moment a woman gets involved." Though he spoke in jest, his face was full of smiles, and he even felt a faint sense of amusement at the sight of the young man's devotion.

Xiao Yan scrambled back to the room, panting. He searched the area with frantic eyes until he spotted a letter resting quietly on the table. He froze, his heart constricting, and slowly walked over. On the envelope were the words "To Xiao Yan," written in the familiar handwriting he knew so well. With trembling hands, he carefully picked up the letter and sat down at the table.