One person: Starting with the Snow Drinking Blade

Chapter 157 Lost Memories

The road out of the Valley of the Twenty-Four Solar Terms is more difficult than the road in.

It wasn't that they encountered any monsters or traps—the monsters formed from obsessions seemed to have vanished with the closing of the bronze gate, and the mirrors in the Mirror Forest no longer reflected people's hearts—but rather that the entire valley seemed to have "come alive."

That kind of "living" is not living in the sense of life itself, but rather a deeper, more chilling rhythm.

Those scenes of obsession, once frozen like insects in amber, began to slowly flow and change. The palace ruins in the desert collapsed layer by layer like sand sculptures being washed away by the tide, only to be reassembled in the process, becoming a huge, burning city—skyscrapers crumbling, flames soaring into the sky, and countless tiny black shadows struggling and howling in the fire, their howls faint and indistinct, like the wind passing through cracks in the rocks.

On the grassland, the wrecked tanks, those rusted steel behemoths, suddenly began to sprout vines. The vines were blood-red, twisting and turning like veins, climbing over the entire tank at a visible speed, and then blooming into eerie flowers at the top. The flowers had five petals, fleshy like the organs of some kind of creature, and at the center of the flower was not a stamen, but—a rusted cannon barrel, slowly rotating, pointing at the crowd, as if aiming.

The cross-section of the skyscraper, the cut-open dollhouse, like clay being kneaded by an invisible hand, began to twist. The walls curved into arcs, the windows were stretched into grotesque rhombuses, and the clothes on the balcony seemed possessed by ghosts, floating up on their own, swirling and dancing in the air like countless pale butterflies.

The road beneath our feet is also changing.

The flagstones turned into a swamp, black mud churning and bubbling, the bubbles bursting and spewing out a pungent, putrid stench. The swamp then transformed into lava, scalding red liquid bubbling and bubbling, the heat oppressive, burning the skin. The lava then froze into ice, smooth as a mirror, reflecting faces, but the faces in the mirror were smiling, a sinister smile, while the people outside the mirror were not smiling at all.

You have to be careful with every step, because you never know what you'll step on next.

Even more strangely, a faint, mist-like golden light permeated the air.

These tiny specks of light, smaller than dust particles, drifted slowly in the air like willow catkins in spring or fireflies on a summer night. They did not emit light, but were golden in their own right, a soft gold like melting honey or the first rays of sunlight.

They drift in the wind and land on people, seeping in silently, like water seeping into sand, like snow falling on a lake, leaving no trace.

"What is this thing again?"

Zhang Chulan waved his hand, swatting away the specks of light in front of him like flies. But his palm passed right through the specks and touched nothing; the specks continued to float and burrow into his skin. He could feel the sensation of them penetrating—not pain, not itching, but a faint coolness, like mint melting on his skin.

"I don't know, but I feel... not quite right." Wang Ye frowned. He activated the Feng Hou Qi Men technique, condensing a wall of energy in front of him, trying to block the light spots. But there were too many light spots, densely packed, surging in from all directions, penetrating everywhere. The energy wall could only slow them down, but couldn't completely stop them. Soon, some light spots pierced through the energy wall and continued to seep into his body.

Zhuge Qing used the Wuhou Qimen formation to set up a simple dust-avoiding array. Pale blue light swirled around him, forming a circular shield with a diameter of two meters. Points of light struck the shield, creating ripples, but soon, tiny cracks appeared on the shield, and the light points seeped in along the cracks.

"It's no use." He shook his head, his brow furrowed. "This thing doesn't seem to be a physical entity; it's more like... some kind of 'concept' or 'information.' The formation can't block a concept."

"Forget everything, let's get out of here first," Baron said in a deep voice, quickening his pace. He had a dagger in his hand without him even noticing. Although he knew it might not cut him, having a weapon in his hand always made him feel more at ease.

They had no time to study the terrain and focused on getting to their destination. The terrain was unpredictable, forcing them to jump and dodge like hopscotch, and sometimes they had to take detours. They couldn't pick up any speed at all.

But as he walked, Nie Lingfeng suddenly realized something was wrong.

The yin-yang jade pendant on his chest had begun to feel slightly warm, though he didn't know when.

It wasn't a scorching heat, but a warm, gentle temperature, like the warmth of jade warmed by body heat. That warmth emanated from the jade pendant, seeped through the clothes, penetrated the skin, traveled upwards along the meridians, and finally flowed into the mind.

At the same time, a faint, flowing light of black and white appeared on the surface of the jade pendant. The light rotated like a yin-yang symbol, forming a thin, almost invisible film that enveloped his entire body from head to toe.

When those golden specks of light touched this light membrane, they were like water droplets touching a lotus leaf—they slid away gently. They couldn't penetrate it; they could only linger on the surface of the light membrane for a moment before being flung away and drifting back into the air.

Nie Lingfeng's heart stirred, and he looked at Chen Duo.

The "Warm Jade Heart of Yaochi" hanging around Chen Duo's neck was also emitting a faint, emerald-green light. This light was much gentler than when she usually activated her Phoenix True Fire, like lake water in spring, like the thin mist at dawn. The emerald-green light membrane also enveloped her, preventing the golden specks of light from getting close.

The two exchanged a glance and both saw the confusion in each other's eyes.

There's something wrong with this spot of light...

The jade pendant was protecting them.

But others...

Nie Lingfeng looked at Zhang Chulan and the others.

Sure enough, those golden specks of light were continuously seeping into their bodies. On Zhang Chulan's forehead, on Wang Ye's Taoist robe, on Zhuge Qing's book pages, on Zhang Lingyu's cuffs, on Feng Baobao's clothes, on Balen's dagger, on Xia Liuqing's pipe—these specks of light were everywhere, like bees returning to their hive, rushing to burrow into these people's bodies.

As the light seeped in, their eyes began to look somewhat... lost.

The confusion was faint, like the feeling of just waking up and not yet distinguishing between a dream and reality. But Nie Lingfeng could tell that they were forgetting.

They are forgetting everything behind the bronze door.

"Chu Lan," Wang Ye suddenly spoke, his voice somewhat ethereal, like a dream, "We entered the Twenty-Four Solar Terms Valley... what was it for again?"

He didn't stop walking, but his eyes were unfocused as he stared ahead, as if he saw nothing.

Zhang Chulan was taken aback, his steps slowing slightly. He scratched his head, frowning, trying hard to recall.

"It's to...to find out about Bao'er's background," he said, but his tone was uncertain. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, right, investigating his background..." Wang Ye nodded, but his eyes were still somewhat unfocused, as if looking through a layer of mist. "So... did you find anything?"

"You found it...right?"

Zhang Chulan's tone became even more uncertain. He stopped and stood still, staring blankly at the distorted cross-section of the tall building in the distance.

"I remember...we seemed to have seen something...something important...but I can't remember exactly what it was."

He patted his head, making a dull "thump" sound, as if that would bring back the memories.

"I can't remember either." Zhuge Qing walked over and stood beside him. He looked down at the ancient book in his hands, the pages rustling in the wind. He flipped through a few pages, closed it, flipped again, closed it again, and finally looked up blankly. "I only remember... there seemed to be a door? And words written on it?"

"What is a human being?" Zhang Lingyu suddenly asked.

He spoke so naturally, as if stating a fact. But after he finished speaking, he was stunned; his brows furrowed slightly, and his lips moved as if repeating those three words.

"Huh? How come I remember those three words..."

"The Bronze Gate," Feng Baobao suddenly spoke, her voice calm, as if she were saying that the weather was nice today.

Everyone looked at her.

Feng Baobao stood there, facing a patch of melting ice—ice that had been lava a moment ago, now turned to ice. Her reflection lingered on the ice, but while the shadow smiled, her face remained expressionless. This eerie incongruity chilled the surrounding air.

"A very large door, closed," she continued, her gaze piercing through the ice as if she saw something else. "There's... something inside."

"Sister Bao'er, what do you remember?" Zhang Chulan asked anxiously, quickly walking to her side.

Feng Baobao tilted her head, thinking for a very long time. So long that the ice began to melt again, turning into a swamp, forcing them to take a few steps back.

"I don't remember," she finally said, her tone still calm. "I only remember the door, and... an old man who said he was my father."

"Wugensheng?" Wang Ye's eyes lit up. "He appeared? What did he say?"

Feng Baobao thought about it for a long time.

"I forgot."

She was very composed, as composed as if she were saying, "I ate today." That composure left Wang speechless.

The group remained silent and continued on their way.