HLnovel Chapter 414 They Fear Forgetting
Chapter 414 They Fear Forgetting
While Xue Lan was speaking, she picked up a memorial tablet with the three characters "Wang Jingchun" written on it from the side, wiped it clean, and carefully placed it back in place.
"I've never really liked making contracts with anything. From my previous life to this one, I've only ever made contracts with two things."
The woman pointed to her brow, and the mark of the strange fire flashed.
"One is the strange fire bestowed upon me by the seniors during the last trial. I stole the essence of the Golden Crow from the War Puppet Mansion and urgently needed the strange fire to cover it up."
Jiu Sheng's lips twitched slightly: "You don't need to tell me where the shop owner has stolen things."
Xue Lan nodded to indicate that she understood, and then continued:
"The other one is my immortal sword, Jin Guang, from my previous life, now the Northern Region River Wolf Lord. She was forged from my rib, but I regretted making a contract with her."
He could have easily ended his own life, but he forced his own sword into such a state.
The woman kept bending down to pick up the memorial tablets with names written on them.
"Qin Lingshi!" Xue Lan softly read out the three words.
"Elder Qin's name is quite nice!"
Xue Lan sighed as she placed a memorial tablet in its proper place.
In the vast main training ground cave, the woman was talking to herself, as if she were talking to Jiu Sheng behind her.
It was as if she was talking to herself.
The old man standing behind Xue Lan, watching the woman's retreating figure, finally couldn't help but ask:
"Why not form a contract? Only by forming a contract with a magical artifact can its greatest power be unleashed!"
Upon hearing the old man's voice, Xue Lan turned and solemnly spoke:
"Because objects have a spirit!"
Although there are many masters skilled in crafting artifacts in this Yuanming Realm, no one understands the meaning of artifacts possessing spirits better than Xue Lan.
Single blade, soul-summoning, embers, and even the Nine Saints before my eyes...
“Like people, magical artifacts also have things they want to do,” Xue Lan said softly.
"To assist the Master of Wan Gong Fang and dedicate myself to repairing the Yuanming Realm, this is my wish," Jiu Sheng said, his voice firm and powerful.
Xue Lan didn't take it to heart. She was distracted by talking to the old man, but her hands never stopped moving.
"That's not your wish, that's just your task as the first brothel master!"
Xue Lan's gray eyes were calm and still, like a stagnant pool that would never ripple, yet she could convey her emotions to others with great ease.
Her voice carried an undeniable air of command, yet it also sounded like a solemn entrustment:
"Now that I am the new head of the Wan Gong Fang, I also have a task for you!"
Xue Lan picked up a somewhat damaged memorial tablet, the inscriptions of which had been worn away over time.
She held up the memorial tablet in her hand and asked Jiu Sheng, "When did this break?"
Without hesitation, Jiu Sheng replied, "Five thousand one hundred and twenty-four years ago."
Xue Lan smiled gently: "What's your name?"
"Ling Fengyan!"
Both times, the answer was given without hesitation and with absolute decisiveness.
A small carving knife appeared in Xue Lan's hand. She glanced at the memorial tablet next to her, and with a flick of her wrist, she carved all three characters of Ling Fengyan onto it.
"Senior Nine, do you know?" the woman's voice was calm: "The names of all the soldiers and cultivators who died on the battlefield of the Desolate Domain are engraved on the Stele of Merit."
Xue Lan carefully placed the memorial tablet with the name re-engraved on it.
"Now that the Yuanming Realm has reached this point, there are plenty of people willing to die to protect their homeland, even if it means their souls are scattered."
"What they fear is not sacrifice, but being forgotten..."
For decades, the sacrifices of our predecessors have been forgotten; for centuries, the horrors of war have been forgotten; for millennia, the invasion of the demon race has been forgotten.
That's the scariest thing.
Xue Lan knew, and Jiu Sheng knew too.
The old man's stiff body began to move. He slowly walked to Xue Lan's side and bent down to pick up the memorial tablet. His voice was hoarse and desolate:
"I haven't forgotten."
The spirits of Wan Gong Fang have never forgotten their companions who disappeared over the long years.
"I was just afraid of backing down, and I always thought that we would meet again someday."
Yes!
Xue Lan thought to herself, "If we are working together towards a common goal, using our souls as a thread, and completely merging into the mountains and rivers of the Yuanming Realm, how can that not be considered a complete reunion?"
But such nameless and forgotten achievements are truly cruel.
"I don't want to sign a contract with you because I want you to remember us," Xue Lan said bluntly, her voice slightly hoarse.
"Now I am the needle. I will travel across mountains and rivers, let as many people as possible know me, and then cut the threads of cause and effect, so that as many people as possible will forget me."
"I was the one who planted the flowers, and I was also the one who plucked them out with my own hands."
Xue Lan seemed tired. The woman sat on a table to the side, between two memorial tablets.
"Not only that, I will also use my own demon soul as fuel. By then, I will probably forget some things."
“But Ninth Senior… I don’t want to be forgotten, nor do I want to be the one who is forgotten.”
"Do you have any good ideas?"
Jiu Sheng wiped the memorial tablet in his hand with his sleeve, remaining silent.
Xue Lan brought more sophisticated methods to Wan Gong Fang than before, bringing greater hope to the Yuanming Realm.
He wouldn't persuade Xue Lan to give up, nor would any of the souls in the Ten Thousand Crafts Workshop.
Looking at the deep sorrow on the young woman's face beside him, the old man in gray began to believe what she had said earlier.
This Wolf King might truly be yearning for the warmth of the world, which is why he wanted to save the Yuanming Realm.
It would be too lonely to run away alone.
"You see... there's nothing you can do." Xue Lan sighed.
“Senior Nine, I will not sign a contract with you, nor will I allow you to participate in the creation of the world and the repair of the heavens. You will only be responsible for guarding these memorial tablets in this main forging ground.”
"If it succeeds, we will hold a memorial service here to commemorate their achievements."
"If you fail, then please burn an incense stick for me before the Yuanming Realm collapses!"
These words completely softened Jiu Sheng's hardened heart...
By the time the old man realized what was happening, Xue Lan had already left the main training ground to check on Su Junjian's condition.
The old man held a small memorial tablet in his hand.
It is smaller than the other memorial tablets, and the wood is brand new willow wood.
The strokes of the name above are clearly visible.
The handwriting isn't very nice; it's too old-fashioned.
The old man placed the small memorial tablet in the most conspicuous place on top, and then waved his hand.
The hole that Xue Lan had cleaved open in the main training ground with heavenly lightning back then was not deliberately repaired by Jiu Sheng. Now, the old man removed the illusion above, and a beam of warm sunlight shone down from the hole.
The beam of light pierced through layers of vines and through the constantly floating dust particles.
Finally, the light fell on the small memorial tablet that had just been placed, illuminating the two characters on it that had an odd, overly formal style: Xue Lan.
The old man chuckled softly and blew out all the candles around him with a flick of his sleeve.
The candlelight in the dark room has been dim for a long time; it's time to let the daylight shine through.
They hoped that Xue Lan would be their ray of hope.