The setting sun was like blood clotted by the flames of war, hanging heavily over Bianjing, stained this ancient capital with a layer of miserable blood. Inside the ruined temple, gloom and silence intertwined, and the pervasive smell of decay and the old sandalwood scent entangled with each other. Lin Feng was like a wounded trapped beast, huddled in a dark corner, his body trembling slightly, and every tremor seemed to be fighting against the violent power in his body. Between his fingers, the golden liquid was like a strange spirit snake, winding down, outlining indescribable patterns on the mottled blue bricks, like some kind of ancient and ominous prophecy. The fragments of the Qingming Mirror were like greedy beasts, deeply embedded in his palm, and the cracks were like hideous spider webs, spreading wildly towards his wrists. Ink-like black mist seeped out from every gap, as if there were countless imprisoned resentful spirits, screaming desperately and shrilly in the mirror, struggling to break free from this terrible prison.
After the fierce confrontation with Lin Wanqiu in the mist formation, the fragment of the Qingming Mirror seemed to be injected with an evil soul, entangled with Lin Feng like a shadow, and slowly eroded his flesh and will in an almost cruel way. It was like a poisonous insect lurking in the dark, silently gnawing at his vitality, making him sink deeper and deeper into the abyss of pain and confusion.
"Mr. Lin!" A shout suddenly broke the dead silence of the dilapidated temple. Duan Litang violently pushed open the rotten temple door, and the door panel made a harsh "creaking" sound, as if wailing for the impending crisis. His figure staggered, and there were still mottled bloodstains on his body from the thrilling battle last night, and every drop of blood seemed to tell the cruelty of the battle. The wooden box in his arms fell to the ground with a "clang" because of this violent movement, and half of the yellowed ancient book slipped out of the box, and the paper was brittle, exuding the smell of years of dust.
When his eyes touched Lin Feng, his pupils shrank sharply as if they had been hit hard. The young man in front of him was no longer as clear and bright as before. In the gaps of the armor, golden blood threads slowly wriggled like earthworms, as if his body had become the outlet for some strange power. His eyes, which were originally as clear as a spring, were now surging with strange golden light, as if he was possessed by a demon. The light was strange and dangerous, which was frightening. The corners of his mouth were slightly raised, with a strange arc that seemed to be smiling but not smiling, as if he was mocking everything in the world, or as if he was controlled by the dark power in his body and lost his self-awareness.
"Don't come over here." Lin Feng spoke, his voice hoarse and rough, as if it was squeezed out from the depths of his dry throat, with a bit of pain and depression that was difficult to conceal. As soon as he finished speaking, his right hand moved slightly, as if triggering some ancient and mysterious mechanism. In an instant, the ground was struck by lightning and cracked. One after another, hideous cracks spread rapidly, as if the earth was torn apart. Countless golden threads broke out of the cracks. They were like hungry pythons, baring their fangs and claws and pouncing towards Duan Litang, instantly nailing him to the wall. Duan Litang groaned, a look of pain flashed across his face, and his body was tightly bound by the threads, unable to move.
Lin Feng slowly lowered his head and stared at the fragments in his palm. The inky black fog became thicker and thicker, surging in front of his eyes, and gradually transformed into distorted and familiar faces. They were his comrades who had fought side by side with him in the fog array but unfortunately died. Their faces were painful and desperate, and their mouths opened and closed, as if they were shouting silently. "Listen, they are calling my name." Lin Feng muttered to himself, his voice trembling, as if he was deeply hurt by this strange scene, and as if he was being gnawed by the guilt and self-blame in his heart.
Duan Litang endured the severe pain in his body, beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, and he took out three copper coins from his arms with difficulty. The copper coins shone with a faint luster in the dim light, revealing a mysterious atmosphere. "This is the "Xuanming Secret Art" that I found in Jinying after going through hardships. Maybe. maybe it can repair the Qingming Mirror!" His voice trembled slightly due to pain and tension, "But, this requires you to trust me without reservation." His eyes were firm and resolute, although he knew in his heart that the eye-catching words on the title page of the ancient book "Those who use fate as a guide and go against the will of heaven will be destroyed in body and soul" were like a sword of Damocles hanging high, foreshadowing the huge risks that this attempt would face.
Lin Feng was stunned at first, then he suddenly laughed, and the laughter echoed in the ruined temple, with a bit of madness and ridicule. "Trust? Just like trusting Lin Wanqiu at the beginning? In return, countless innocent lives were lost!" He waved his arms violently, as if he wanted to vent all the anger and unwillingness in his heart. The golden silk threads instantly surged like crazy soldiers who received orders. They were like sharp blades, crushing all the beams and pillars of the ruined temple. For a moment, dust flew, rotten wood chips splashed, and tiles fell like raindrops. However, when these falling objects touched the three-foot range around Lin Feng, they seemed to hit an invisible and hard barrier, and were instantly shattered into powder and fell down.
Taking advantage of the chaos, Duan Litang seized the opportunity and pressed the copper coin in his hand hard on the ground, muttering something. An ancient and obscure spell came out from his lips, carrying a mysterious power. As the spell sounded, the dust on the ground began to vibrate slightly, gradually gathering into a series of dark blue spells, flashing with light, like a mysterious symbol from ancient times, carrying unknown power and majesty.
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As the spell continued, the fragments of the Qingming Mirror in Lin Feng's body began to heat up violently, like an awakened evil beast, the heat was far greater than ever before, as if it was going to burn his flesh and blood to ashes. Lin Feng groaned in pain, his body trembled uncontrollably, beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, his legs softened, and he fell heavily to the ground. However, in this painful torment, his consciousness was uncontrollably sucked into the mirror by a powerful force.
When Lin Feng's consciousness entered the mirror, a dreamlike but endlessly weird space appeared before his eyes. The broken mirror surface was like stars suspended in the universe, emitting a cold and faint light. They were scattered in an orderly manner, as if telling the glory of the complete past. The black fog was like a smart but evil living creature, entwining between the mirror surfaces. In each group of black fog, it seemed to seal a dusty memory, vaguely emitting a mysterious and dangerous atmosphere.
In this strange mirror world, Lin Feng's eyes were attracted by the pictures. He saw Lin Wanqiu transformed into a sacred dragon spirit, hovering over Qingtian Village to protect it. For thousands of years, her figure has never changed, blessing the people on this land. The villagers were full of piety, burning incense and bowing, and the smoke rose, expressing their wishes for peace and tranquility. However, when the picture changed, his heart suddenly shrank, and he saw the heartbreaking scene of his previous life - he held the Qingming Mirror and ruthlessly stabbed Lin Wanqiu's chest, and blood splattered, dyeing her red clothes red, and also dyeing the whole picture red.
"So, we have met before." Lin Feng murmured, his voice floating in the space in the mirror, with endless melancholy and confusion. At this moment, the black mist in the mirror seemed to be summoned by some mysterious power, and it quickly condensed and gradually transformed into the appearance of Lin Wanqiu. The woman in red stood quietly in front of him, her face was beautiful but with a thousand years of sadness, that sadness was like a heavy shackle, suffocating people. The dragon horns on her forehead were wrapped with cold chains, each chain cruelly pierced her body, blood slowly dripped along the chains, dripped on the illusory ground under her feet, and disappeared. "Do you think this is power? It's just a heavy shackle." Her voice was ethereal and ethereal, constantly echoing in the mirror, "When the mirror is completely shattered, you and I will be doomed and fall into the dark abyss that will never see the light of day."
At the same time, in the real world, Duan Litang's process of performing the spell became increasingly difficult. The veins on his forehead bulged like winding earthworms, and the wrinkles on his face quickly covered him at a speed visible to the naked eye, as if the years were speeding up at this moment. He knew that time was running out, gritted his teeth, bit his tongue hard, and sprayed a mouthful of blood on the ancient book in front of him. Those ancient characters seemed to be injected with life and came alive in an instant. They broke away from the ancient book and turned into golden runes, like a smart firefly, flashing light, and slowly crawled along Lin Feng's arm towards the fragment of the Qingming Mirror embedded in his palm.
"Stop!" Lin Feng felt the approach of the runes from the outside world in the mirror, and he struggled and roared like an angry beast. His body trembled violently, and ancient and mysterious totems appeared on the surface of his armor. Those totems flickered with light, as if awakening the long-dormant power. The earth began to shake violently at his roar. Under the impact of this powerful force, the walls of Bianjing in the distance showed shocking cracks, and bricks and stones rolled down, raising a cloud of dust.
Just when the golden rune was about to touch the fragments of the Qingming Mirror, a dazzling light suddenly burst out from the mirror, and the light was like a sharp sword, instantly cutting through the darkness in the mirror. In this light, Lin Feng saw a future scene that shook his soul: Bianjing was submerged in a sea of ??blood, and the blood was surging, swallowing everything in this prosperous ancient capital. Lin Wanqiu stood alone on the ruins, her figure was proud but full of endless sadness. The cold light of the dragon horn on her forehead flashed, ruthlessly piercing his heart. And he himself turned into a golden statue, standing in this doomsday scene, holding the completely broken Qingming Mirror in his hand, and the fragments were scattered all over the ground, like his broken soul.
The moment the image disappeared, Lin Feng felt something cold and evil coming out of the mirror, like an icy snake, flowing quickly into his heart along his blood vessels. His heart suddenly shrank, as if it was tightly grasped by an invisible big hand.
"No!" Duan Litang's scream and Lin Feng's roar sounded almost at the same time. The golden threads around Lin Feng seemed to be pulled by some powerful reaction force, and suddenly rolled back, like a sharp dagger, ruthlessly piercing his own body. The fragments of the Qingming Mirror made a piercing buzzing sound, which was sharp and shrill, like a wail from hell. The black mist that spewed out of the cracks, like a surging tide, instantly enveloped the entire ruined temple, and the darkness swallowed everything.
When the black fog finally dissipated, the ruined temple was in a mess, as if it had experienced a devastating disaster. Broken walls, rotten beams and pillars were scattered all over the ground, and the dust was everywhere. Duan Litang sat slumped in the corner, his hair was completely white, his face was haggard like an old man, and the traces of time left a deep mark on his face, as if he had experienced a hundred years of vicissitudes in this short period of time. And Lin Feng had long disappeared, only a few pieces of mirrors engraved with runes were scattered on the ground, flashing strange light in the afterglow of the setting sun, as if silently telling what had just happened. In the distance, the terrified cries of the people of Bianjing were heard one after another, and the faint, palpitating smell of blood drifted with the wind, indicating that a greater crisis was quietly approaching.
