Chapter Eight: The Ancient Soul Returns, History’s Pages Torn Asunder

The wind atop the towering building was far murkier than that above the Eastern Sea, carrying a scent of rust and dust. Holding Yiyi in my arms, I stood at the edge of the rooftop, beneath my feet the abyss of steel shimmering with lights.

“Father, I’m scared…” Yiyi buried her little face against my chest, her voice muffled. She was no longer amazed by the glowing “mountain peaks”; the boundless, clamorous unfamiliarity finally filled her with fear.

I tightened my embrace, holding her more securely. How could I not be afraid myself? On Immortal Island Yingzhou, our enemies were solitude and the passage of time, and our goals were clear. But here, I didn’t even know who our enemies were, nor where our goals lay. We were like two drops of water cast into boiling oil, instantly swallowed by the surrounding din.

“Don’t be afraid, Father’s here.” I whispered, comforting her as much as reminding myself.

We couldn’t stay here forever. Our attire—coarse linen robes of the Qin era—were far too conspicuous amidst this sea of people clad in strange and varied garments.

I put away my flying sword, carrying Yiyi, and found the entrance leading downstairs. It was called the “emergency exit,” spiraling downward with flight after flight of stairs. We walked for what felt like ages, so long that Yiyi fell asleep in my arms before we finally set foot on solid ground.

As we emerged from the side door of the building into the crowd, we immediately attracted countless curious, probing, and even mocking gazes. People pointed at us and raised small rectangular devices called “phones.”

“Look, is this a film shoot? The costumes are pretty retro.”

“Cosplay, I bet? The little girl’s adorable.”

I couldn’t understand most of their words, but the weight of their stares was unmistakable. I pulled Yiyi’s cloak tighter, covering her face, quickening my pace, desperate to escape this throng.

The immediate priority was to change into clothing like theirs, and then acquire this era’s “money.”

With Yiyi in tow, I sought out deserted alleys. My sense, honed by the Golden Core stage, made it easy to avoid crowds, and my eyes searched the dim corners. At last, at the end of a cluttered alley, I discovered a discarded gold bracelet gleaming faintly. Its hiding place was discreet, but the pure essence of Geng Metal was unmistakable to my spiritual sense.

I picked it up and entered a shop labeled “Gold and Silver Recycling.” The shopkeeper, a middle-aged man with glasses, was momentarily surprised by my attire, then smiled knowingly, probably mistaking me for a down-and-out actor. He took the bracelet, tested it with a device, burned it with fire, and finally quoted a number.

I didn’t understand, merely watched him in silence. Thinking I was dissatisfied, he added a little more. Still, I remained quiet. At last, he grudgingly pulled several bundles of colorful paper from a drawer and pushed them toward me.

This was the “money” of this era. I gathered it up and left without a word.

With money, things became much easier. I took Yiyi into a brightly lit clothing store. Yiyi was immediately captivated by the dazzling array of beautiful dresses.

“Father, look at this one, it has butterflies!” She pointed to a pink dress, her eyes full of longing. On Penglai Immortal Island, she had only her old clothes.

“All right, we’ll buy it.” In that moment, all confusion and unease melted away with my daughter’s smile. Awkwardly gesturing, aided by the shop assistant, I picked out a few ordinary outfits for both her and myself.

Once we changed into new clothes, we were no longer so conspicuous. I wore a simple short-sleeved shirt and trousers, while Yiyi donned the pink dress she’d yearned for. Walking the streets, we looked like any ordinary father and daughter.

Having resolved the most basic need for clothing, the next step was to answer my greatest uncertainty—what kind of era had we arrived in?

With Yiyi at my side, I entered a place called “Xinhua Bookstore.” It resembled the Wanjuan Pavilion, but instead of jade slips, it housed countless paper books.

I went straight to a section filled with books labeled “History.” I started by learning the modern simplified script, for the characters in these books were vastly different from those of Great Qin. But, as a Golden Core cultivator, I quickly mastered these basic characters.

Once I could read modern script, I grabbed a copy of “A General History of Huaxia” and opened the first page.

“Xia, Shang, Zhou…” Familiar names sent a jolt through my heart. I read on, seeing “Spring and Autumn, Warring States,” “Seven powers vying for supremacy,” and then two mighty characters that made my blood surge—

Great Qin!

“…King Ying Zheng of Qin, swept the realm, what hero could match him! Wielding the sword to dispel the clouds, the princes all came west. North he struck the Xiongnu, south he conquered the Hundred Yue, unified script and measure, established counties, abolished feudal rule… Called himself the First Emperor.”

Yes! It was my Great Qin! My sovereign! Trembling with excitement, my eyes grew hot. We hadn’t arrived in some foreign world; this was still the land of Huaxia!

But as I read further, my heart gradually sank.

“…The First Emperor died at Shacheng, Zhao Gao and Li Si forged the edict, enthroned Hu Hai as the Second Emperor, granted death to Prince Fusu… The Second Emperor perished…”

“…Chu and Han contended, Liu Bang established Han…”

“…Three Kingdoms… Jin and Southern-Northern Dynasties… Sui and Tang… Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms… Song, Yuan, Ming, Qing…”

Flipping through page after page revealed the rise and fall of countless dynasties. My hands trembled; two thousand years had flashed by within these thin pages like a fleeting horse’s shadow.

Xu Fu, Meng Tian, Li Si… All that I once knew had faded into mere lines in the chronicles.

Yiyi’s longed-for homeland, her little companions, Aunt Wang who made cakes, all had vanished into the dust of two millennia, without even a trace.

I closed the book, shut my eyes, overwhelmed by sorrow, bewilderment, and a profound emptiness born of witnessing the passage of ages.

“Father, what’s wrong? Are you unhappy?” Yiyi tugged at my hand, concerned.

I shook my head, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing, Father just… saw stories of old friends.”

Suppressing the turmoil within, I continued reading. I had to know what my homeland had endured in the two thousand years of my “absence.”

When I reached the modern history, saw the years of humiliation, my breath grew rapid. Especially when I came upon the words “enemy nation,” a surge of uncontrollable murderous intent erupted from my core!

The enemy nation—was this not the barbaric land Xu Fu spoke of, where we sailed to seek the Three Sacred Mountains: Penglai, Fangzhang, Yingzhou? The book recorded that this pirate nation dared to bite back at Huaxia, invading, slaughtering my kin, seizing our rivers and mountains! My Golden Core aura spilled out uncontrollably, causing the nearby bookshelves to tremble.

“Beasts! Barbaric nation, how dare you!” I growled, eyes bloodshot, teeth clenched, veins bulging on my hand. I was a personal guard of the First Emperor, sworn to protect Great Qin, defend Huaxia. But what had I seen? The sinking of the divine continent, shattered mountains and rivers! In that instant, I wished nothing more than to ride my sword east and level the enemy islands in a single stroke!

“Father!” Yiyi, terrified by my appearance, clung tightly to my arm, sobbing, “Father, what’s wrong? Don’t scare me! I’m afraid!”

Her frightened voice poured over me like a bucket of cold water, extinguishing the fury in my heart. I snapped back to myself, seeing her pale face and tear-filled eyes, and was flooded with regret and remorse.

I took a deep breath, forced down the murderous rage, held her tightly in my arms, gently patting her back.

“I’m sorry, Yiyi, Father was wrong, I scared you.” I soothed her softly, “Father just… saw some bad people bullying our Huaxia kin, and felt upset.”

“Have the bad people… been driven away?” she whispered in my arms.

I turned to the last pages of the book, saw “New Huaxia established,” “Reform and Opening,” and the prosperity of today.

I nodded, my voice hoarse but resolute. “Yes, they’ve been driven away. Our kin reclaimed their homeland with their own hands, and built it even better, even better…”

Holding her silently for a long time, I realized how small personal grievances and the tides of history seemed in this moment.

I, Jiang Xiuyuan, guardian of Great Qin, now stand with my eternally nine-year-old daughter on the soil of our homeland two thousand years later.

I must survive, adapt to this place.

Not for myself, but for the daughter I owe so much, to let her find peace and a new “home” in this new, tranquil age.