Only the director of the orphanage and a handful of teachers at school knew about Chen An's illness. And then there was Dr. Qin standing before him.
As adults, they understood how to respect his privacy and emotions. They didn't go around announcing it, and since Chen An hardly interacted with classmates and had always been a quiet loner, there was no chance he would share it himself.
So even after nearly three years at Second High, not a single student knew he had a heart condition—at most, they might've just wondered why he never participated in PE.
"How serious is it?" Lin Jingqiu asked, squeezing her hands together.
Dr. Qin poured himself a cup of water at the dispenser. "If you'd asked me before today? Extremely serious."
Talking shop seemed to liven him up. He launched into a full explanation, diving into technical terms and theories. But when he glanced over and saw the confusion on Lin Jingqiu's face, he smacked his forehead.
"Forget it. You wouldn't understand the medical jargon anyway. Bottom line—preliminary results say he's now at normal levels, but I can't shake the feeling it's not that simple. I'll need to run it by my mentor and analyze it further."
Lin Jingqiu nodded patiently, then stood up. "I may not understand all the details, but I assume the medical care in the capital is better? If possible, I want to take him there for a proper checkup."
That caught Dr. Qin off guard. He looked at the earnest girl, then back at the boy lying dazed on the bed. Honestly, just based on appearances, they looked like a pretty good match.
"You're Chen An's classmate?"
She gave a small hum of affirmation.
"Well, Qing City's equipment and medical staff aren't on par with the capital, sure," Qin admitted.
"But here's the thing—right now, all of Chen An's medical expenses are covered by the school. He's getting free treatment at this hospital. If you transfer him to the capital, that's another story entirely."
He paused deliberately. "Even just the checkups could cost a fortune."
He waited, hoping that would make her reconsider.
But the girl waved her hand lightly. "Money's not an issue."
In her mind, she'd already made the decision. If they couldn't find answers in the capital, she'd ask her master for help. And if even he couldn't solve it, then there probably wasn't anyone in the world who could.
She wasn't doing this for some deeper motive—she simply wanted to repay the debt of having her life saved.
"Then it's settled. Once Chen An's rested a couple days, I'm taking him to the capital!" She lifted her chin decisively, declaring the plan.
Just then, a soft voice came from behind.
"I feel like… the person involved should have a say in this."
---
Divine Continent..
Time began to turn backward.
In a dark, damp chamber, a newborn girl lay on a stone platform. Countless sinister crimson gazes swept across her, as if ready to tear her apart on the spot.
A sinister plan, laid out three years prior, was now slowly coming to fruition with whispered incantations.
She was born a natural Dao Body—a once-in-a-millennium blessing in the world of cultivation. But that luck came at a price. Not long after birth, she was found by a notorious demonic sect known for its blood rituals.
To preserve her pure heart and spirit, they slaughtered her biological parents and relocated to an obscure village in Shenzhou. The entire sect then transformed into the 361 households of Su Family Village.
It was a gamble that cost them everything, but the rewards—if successful—would have been unimaginable.
The demonic path has never lacked gamblers.
But they lost.
In just the third year of the plan's execution, Chen An discovered and destroyed their scheme. That day, the Su Family Village was wiped from existence, blood flowing across ten li of land.
That was also the day a seed of doubt was planted deep within the girl's heart.
That seed grew roots, slowly feeding off her thoughts, and after twenty-seven years, it blossomed into the sword she thrust toward her master.
Su Chichi's expression remained cold. She lowered her eyes, her fingers clenched so tightly around the sword hilt that they had turned pale. Her faintly trembling body betrayed the storm of emotions within.
After a long silence, she raised her head. Her gaze was frigid. She swung her sword, and the surging sword qi shattered the illusion before her with ease. Her face was calm—her Dao heart remained as firm as ever.
She sneered. "So it was a heart demon all along. If the truth were really what you say, then why would he hide it from me all these years? Why not just come clean?"
"He must've coveted this body, waiting for my cultivation to ripen before refining me to help ascend!"
The voice of the so-called heart demon returned with a snort of laughter. "You really are stubborn. You say he never told you, but did you ever ask him?"
Its tone was full of scorn—like it was disgusted with its former self.
"You, so self-righteous, so blind… You deserve to have been swallowed up in that blood sacrifice, never to reincarnate."
Su Chichi didn't bother arguing. She scanned the mist-filled surroundings, still unable to find an exit. So she sat down and began to meditate.
"My Dao heart is as firm as iron. No matter what tricks you try, I will not waver."
The voice scoffed. "Maybe that line could fool someone else—but you really believe it yourself?"
"You already know the truth. Deep down, you understand better than anyone—he could never have done what you accused him of. But you made a mistake. And that mistake can never be undone…"
With every word it said, Su Chichi's trembling grew more intense.
"Shut up!" she roared.
She opened her eyes—red and wet.
The Spiritual Sea within her surged with furious energy, sword qi erupting in all directions, carrying the weight of her boundless fury.
"Tsk. Hit a nerve, did I?" the voice jeered, still echoing in her mind.
"Look at you now. So pathetic. So revolting. You don't even dare to look too closely. You keep clinging to that fake reality you built, just to comfort yourself."
It spoke with pity. "You're nothing but a coward—still running, even now."
Su Chichi stood with her sword in hand, head slightly bowed.
"You're lying… all of you are lying…"
"He's the demon who murdered my parents…"
She opened her mouth, but no sound came. Because the shattered images were beginning to converge.
Then she understood what the voice meant at the beginning—
"To walk the path again… from your master's point of view."
She snapped awake. Her expression twisted, her body trembling uncontrollably.
She slashed again and again at the illusion before her. But no matter how wild the sword qi, it was all in vain.
"No… please…"
The cruelest punishment wasn't losing something.
It was remembering.