“Sister, what exactly is wrong with brother-in-law?” Su Huamei asked, looking at Liu Nanfeng’s emaciated appearance with worry.
“He forcefully activated his sword technique, which excessively depleted his vital energy and spirit,” Su Jinxiu said, her brow furrowed as she looked at Liu Nanfeng’s wretched state. She felt both concerned and guilty.
Just as he had said, he was himself. Was it Feng Zhirun or Liu Nanfeng that mattered so much?
Su Huamei, overhearing Su Jinxiu’s explanation about the depletion of vital energy and spirit, immediately leaned down and, mouth to mouth, attempted to transfer her own vital energy to Liu Nanfeng.
Su Jinxiu did not stop her. All she wanted was for Liu Nanfeng to recover quickly.
However, Su Huamei soon pulled away, saying worriedly, “It doesn’t seem to help; it’s all dissipating.”
Su Jinxiu placed her hand on Liu Nanfeng’s body and carefully examined his physical condition. She found that he was like an over-dried piece of wood; even if thrown into water, it would only float on the surface and not absorb water quickly.
Su Jinxiu quickly remembered Liu Nanfeng’s devouring ability: anything ingested would be devoured and converted into his own strength. Therefore, as long as they could awaken Liu Nanfeng and give him food with sufficient energy, he would recover.
This idea seemed good, but soon both women realized that Liu Nanfeng was not merely unconscious. His entire consciousness had sunk into a deep state. If he wasn’t thoroughly awakened, he might remain trapped in his deep consciousness forever, becoming what is commonly known as a vegetative state.
However, people in a vegetative state still possess the ability to swallow. If Liu Nanfeng were to become vegetative, he would likely only be waiting for death.
“We still have a few ginseng roots at home. If all else fails, we can cut open his stomach and place them directly into his stomach,” Su Huamei suggested gruelly. While her words were bloody, it was indeed a viable method. With the enhancement of their spiritual powers, a simple abdominal incision would not be fatal. However, Su Jinxiu shook her head.
“Nanfeng is like a candle flame in the wind. If the last wisp of vital energy and spirit supporting his life completely dissipates, then he…”
“This won’t work, and that won’t work either. What should we do?” Su Huamei said anxiously.
“What are you panicking about?” Su Jinxiu glared at her. Then she added, “I will enter his consciousness to see if I can awaken him. You watch over us and ensure we are not disturbed.” She was a little worried that Tide Society might take advantage of the situation, as such a significant commotion could not have gone unnoticed by them.
Just then, they heard the surging tides outside the window. Su Jinxiu glanced out and then lay down beside Liu Nanfeng.
...
“Dong dong dong…”
The sound of a wooden fish being struck reached Su Jinxiu’s ears. It was like surfacing from the dark sea; light appeared before her eyes, and the oppressive feeling vanished with it. She poked her head out and found herself indeed underwater.
She saw a handsome monk sitting cross-legged on a reef, striking a wooden fish. Standing before him was another person, her husband, Liu Nanfeng. The two shared a slight resemblance in their brows. That monk was none other than Feng Zhirun.
“Arun.”
“Husband.”
Su Huamei called out, but neither of them seemed to hear her. One continued striking the wooden fish, while the other gazed at the sea, listening attentively.
Su Jinxiu lightly leaped up and then gently stepped onto the surface of the sea. She looked down and was surprised to see images surfacing in the seawater: some of Liu Nanfeng, some of Feng Zhirun, intertwined yet independent, like two unrelated currents. This, she realized, was Liu Nanfeng’s sea of memories.
Su Jinxiu also noticed an anomaly. Liu Nanfeng’s memories should not contain Feng Zhirun’s memories, as the cycle of reincarnation supposedly erases all past lives. Yet, here they were, intertwined. This indicated that he had awakened his past life, which Su Jinxiu was not surprised by, as she had suspected it for some time. Even Ao Haiping could detect his identity from Liu Nanfeng’s small gestures, let alone Su Jinxiu, who spent her days with him.
Therefore, when Ao Haiping attacked today, she had deliberately tested Liu Nanfeng, pushing him to admit his identity. After all, he had “made a mistake,” and although understandable and not entirely his fault, jealousy was still jealousy.
But now she regretted it. From the sea of memories, it was evident that although Liu Nanfeng had awakened Feng Zhirun’s memories, they were not extensive. Most of them were related to cultivation: Buddhist teachings, Taoist principles, painting techniques, and his world-shattering, awe-inspiring swordplay. Memories of romantic love and worldly affairs were scarce.
Su Jinxiu guessed that it might be related to the painting given by Zhu Yin’e. Feng Zhirun, known as the Unrivaled Sword Sage, was admired for his peerless swordsmanship that dominated the era, but his painting skills were equally unprecedented. Thus, it was logical for him to hide his life’s abilities within the painting “Koi Playing in Waves.” After all, it was unlikely he would hide his romantic affairs within it.
With this thought, Su Jinxiu felt even more guilt. She then recalled what Liu Nanfeng had said to Ao Haiping: “I am myself.” Perhaps he wasn’t speaking to Ao Haiping but to her. Su Jinxiu felt a piercing pain in her heart, causing her great distress.
“Husband.” Su Jinxiu walked forward and called out softly with deep affection.
Liu Nanfeng seemed to hear her voice and turned towards her with a confused expression. Su Jinxiu rejoiced at this and quickly called out again. However, this time Liu Nanfeng turned away as if he hadn’t heard her, and said to Feng Zhirun beside him, “Monk, you keep hitting that. Don’t you find it annoying?”
The monk stopped his striking and replied in a gentle tone, “It is indeed a bit annoying.”
“Arun.” Seeing the person before her, Su Jinxiu’s eyes welled up with tears. This figure had haunted her dreams for countless days and nights.
“Then don’t hit it anymore. Besides, what’s the point of you hitting that?”
“Husband.” Su Jinxiu called out again, then walked to Liu Nanfeng’s side and hooked her arm through his, though he seemed oblivious.
“I’m married,” Su Jinxiu said with a smile, tears in her eyes.
“What?” Liu Nanfeng looked at the person beside him in confusion.
“What?” Feng Zhirun also looked at him in confusion.
“Did you hear someone speaking just now?” Liu Nanfeng asked.
Feng Zhirun shook his head. Liu Nanfeng scratched his head, feeling as if he had forgotten something.
“Right, you haven’t told me yet, why are you hitting the wooden fish?”
“For peace of mind,” Feng Zhirun replied.
“Then have you found peace of mind?”
Feng Zhirun shook his head.
“Then that’s right. Hitting it or not, what does it have to do with your state of mind? If your mind is not at peace, you should hit your heart.”
“You speak with reason,” Feng Zhirun said, tossing the wooden fish into the sea. Then, with wind and waves surging, Feng Zhirun transformed from a handsome young monk into a ragged beggar with disheveled hair and a dirty face. He grinned at Liu Nanfeng and said, “I hit my heart, but I still couldn’t find peace.”
“Oh, and what is the reason you can’t find peace?”
“Because of certain things, certain people.”
“Then go resolve the things that trouble your mind, the people who trouble your mind.”
“You are right.” A surge of sword energy shot towards the sky.