The wind howled, and Nan Shiying stood in the stone cave, momentarily stunned.
The crystal coffin before her was empty. The only proof that someone had once lain within were the tattered remnants of a hem caught on the edge of the coffin lid, as if ripped away.
Old Du walked past her towards the crystal coffin.
He raised a hand to caress the coffin. The light reflected from it pooled in his eyes, momentarily blurring them with waves of emotion. His shoulders trembled slightly, whether from the biting wind or from a secret corner of his heart touched by the scene, it was unclear.
Nan Shiying's eyes drooped at the corners, her slender lashes obscuring the emotions within. The pupils that peeked through them were as dark and deep as if they had fallen into an abyss.
The body was gone.
Someone had used her corpse as medicine, refining Nirvana.
What a thorough annihilation.
Nan Shiying let out a cold laugh, her laughter laced with a chilling murderous intent. That bastard Yue Sinan, even in death, sought to trouble her. She had lived for decades, and even her death, had it been natural, would have been a peaceful passing in her own Phoenix Palace. Had she died peacefully in her Phoenix Palace, her Great Yuan would have surely remained prosperous for a hundred, two hundred, three hundred years, enduring to this day. The banners of her Great Yuan would have flown across the entire continent, and all that met the eye would have been Great Yuan territory.
Instead of the fall of a nation.
What was the point of being reborn? In her previous life, to survive, she had been forced to participate in the struggle for succession, to tread upon seas of corpses and rivers of blood, step by step climbing to that lofty yet destinedly solitary position. She had lived that life, experienced it, felt it. Whether she had succeeded or failed, all of it should have vanished with her death. How history judged her merits and demerits was beyond her sight in the netherworld.
Death cancels debts.
Everything vanishes like the wind.
But Yue Sinan, in his wisdom, insisted on using Nirvana to cling to life, to attempt some sort of rebirth. What was the point of rebirth? It was merely to gaze upon the world’s landscapes once more.
The sound of the wind whistled past her ears, whipping stray strands of hair across her temples.
Since her rebirth, the influence of Nan Shiying's residual soul on her had seemed to completely shatter the moment she saw the empty crystal coffin.
"Ying'er, Ying'er..."
The call by her ear reached her. Invisible tendrils seemed to re-imprison her wandering soul. Nan Shiying's eyes flickered, her gaze landing on Old Du's somewhat worried face. She froze, and the anger and resentment spreading within her gradually dissipated.
She blinked, and the image of Ji Jinmo appeared in her mind.
What was that feeling just now?
It was as if a heavy hammer had struck her heart, something suddenly shattering, the sound of its explosion echoing like the thunder and lightning that filled the heavens and earth.
For a moment, she felt as if everything belonging to Nan Shiying within her had been destroyed in that catastrophe. It wasn't until a familiar voice sounded by her ear, until her consciousness returned, until her senses detached from that void of disaster that existed only in her mind and returned to reality, that the shattered fragments seemed to re-adhere, filling her soul once more.
It was strange.
Nan Shiying felt an absurd sensation.
If Old Du hadn't called out to her just now, then perhaps she might have become herself in the truest sense, the self unburdened by Nan Shiying's residual soul – Empress Nan Fengluan of the Great Yuan Empire.
Nan Shiying didn't know why such an unbelievable thought had surfaced, but compared to her rebirth, what in this world was impossible?
Perhaps it was all a coincidence, or perhaps not.
Nan Shiying gave Old Du a reassuring look, then slowly walked towards the crystal coffin.