The ruins of Bianjing were like a dead hell. The bloody smell and the rotten black air were like a sticky spider web, entangled wantonly, making every breath full of disgusting smell. Lin Feng half-knelt on the ground full of rubble. The sharp stones stung his knees, but it was far less painful than the pain and struggle in his heart. The Qingming mirror in his hand was as hot as a red-hot iron, and it kept vibrating in his trembling palm. The spider-web-like dense cracks on the mirror surface were like a shocking wound. The blood oozing from Lin Feng's palm slowly merged into the mirror, emitting a strange golden light. The light was like a ghost fire, swaying and flickering in this dim environment, revealing unspeakable mystery and danger.
In the distance, the body of the green dragon transformed by Lin Wanqiu was slowly shrinking at a speed visible to the naked eye. The dragon body that was originally majestic and covered the sky and the sun was now like a candle in the wind, which could go out at any time. On the dragon scales, the condensed blood beads were like pearls with broken strings, rolling to the ground one after another, outlining a shaky golden rune at the edge of the netherworld crack. The rune emitted a faint light, like a candle that was about to go out. It stubbornly held on in the strong wind, but it could not resist the erosion of the evil power from the depths of the crack, and it could dissipate at any time.
"Mortal, what are you afraid of?" A charming but sinister voice sounded in Lin Feng's ears without warning. The voice was like a silk thread, gently entwined, but with a cold chill. Lin Feng's whole body trembled violently, as if a basin of cold water was poured over his head, and he woke up instantly. He looked up suddenly, and saw an illusory shadow slowly emerging from the Qingming Mirror.
It was a woman, wearing a black gauze dress, which was as thin as mist, but had a strange luster, as if it was telling that it did not belong to the human world. At the end of her eyes, there was a touch of strange cinnabar, just like a drop of solidified blood, exuding a mysterious atmosphere in the dim light. Her hair was like ink, floating freely in the air, but there was no wind blowing, as if they had their own consciousness. Her face was breathtakingly beautiful, like a fairy walking out of a painting, with skin as white as jade and eyes as deep as the abyss, but the arc at the corner of her lips was chilling, as if it could freeze people's hearts in an instant. With every step she took, a black lotus bloomed under her feet. The lotus bloomed extremely gorgeously, but withered and disappeared in an instant, leaving only a trace of decay.
"Are you. the mirror spirit?" Lin Feng subconsciously tightened his grip on the hilt of the sword, his knuckles turning white from the force, as if the hilt was his only support at the moment. The woman slowly walked around him, her steps as light as a ghost, her nails gently scratched his neck, the touch was cold and sharp, leaving a faint blood mark, a trace of blood slowly seeped out, and quickly condensed in the cold air. "Good memory, you sealed me in the mirror with your own hands a thousand years ago, but now you can't recognize me?" She suddenly leaned close to Lin Feng's ear, and the breath she exhaled was sweet and fishy with rotten meat. The smell was disgusting, but it was impossible to avoid. "At that time, you were still an executioner who slew demons and expelled evil. You held this mirror and pierced Long Ling's heart."
In an instant, countless images rushed through Lin Feng's mind like lightning. The ancient battlefield was filled with smoke and the shouts of killing were deafening. Lin Wanqiu was nailed to the altar by a thick iron chain through her shoulder blade. She struggled in pain, screamed shrilly, and her eyes were full of despair and unwillingness. But he held up the Qingming Mirror, and the light in the mirror was dazzling and pierced directly into Lin Wanqiu's eyes. The light was like a sharp blade, not only piercing her body, but also cutting Lin Feng's heart. These memories were like sharp blades, cutting back and forth in his consciousness crazily, and the pain made him almost unstable. His legs softened and he almost collapsed to the ground. "Impossible." He muttered to himself, his voice trembling, and stumbled back, but crashed into a cold mist.
In the blink of an eye, the surrounding scene suddenly changed. Lin Feng found himself in an endless mirror space, with bottomless mirrors above and below his head. The mirror was like an endless abyss, emitting a cold light. Countless pale arms stretched out from the depths of darkness. Those arms were dry as firewood, with dried blood in the nails, emitting a foul smell. They twisted and struggled, trying to grab Lin Feng's ankles and wrists, trying to drag him into the endless dark abyss. The shadow of the mirror spirit loomed between these arms, and her laughter was like a poisonous snake spitting out its tongue, sharp and cold: "Look at these wronged souls, they are all living beings swallowed by the Qingming Mirror. Want to save Bianjing? It's simple - sacrifice your soul and let me regain my wholeness."
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At the same time, in the real world, Lin Wanqiu's dragon body completely dissipated and turned into an unconscious girl. The red dress she was wearing was soaked with blood, and the blood spread freely on her body like a blooming red plum. The dragon horn on her forehead had disappeared, replaced by a small but shocking scar, as if telling the pain and suffering she had experienced. Her eyelashes trembled slightly, and she fell into a painful dream. Thousands of years ago, the ignorant villagers used heavy iron chains to pierce her shoulder blades and tied her tightly to the altar. She struggled desperately, but to no avail. Lin Feng held up the Qingming Mirror, and the light in the mirror was like a sharp sword, piercing straight into her eyes. At that moment, her world fell into darkness, and pain drowned her like a tide. Tears slid from the corners of her tightly closed eyes, leaving two crystal marks on her cheeks. The tears seemed to be the catharsis of her thousand years of pain.
At the edge of the crack, the golden rune that Lin Wanqiu had condensed with dragon blood was rapidly breaking. Every crack that appeared was accompanied by a crisp shattering sound, which was like the footsteps of the god of death, hitting people's hearts one by one. Rancid black air gushed out from the crack, like a surging black tide, instantly filling the surroundings. The giant white-bone hands reached out again, their claws and teeth bared, and their fingertips scratched across Lin Feng's back, leaving three blood marks deep enough to see the bone. The blood gushed out, instantly dyeing Lin Feng's clothes red, and quickly coagulated in the cold air.
"Don't believe her!" The talisman left by Duan Litang suddenly burned in the air and turned into the shadow of the old Taoist priest. The face of the shadow was blurred, as if shrouded in a layer of fog, but the voice was filled with unquestionable anxiety and determination, "What the mirror spirit wants is to use your body to reshape its true self! Remember what I said to you? The good and bad fortune of the mirror is determined by the user." Before the voice fell, the shadow of the mirror spirit suddenly turned into a black shadow, like a hungry beast, instantly devouring the talisman shadow. In the shadow, the angry roar of the mirror spirit came: "Old thing always ruins my good things." Then, she licked the corner of her mouth, a trace of anger flashed in her eyes, but soon she returned to a charming smile, which made people feel chilling. "But it doesn't matter, look--" She raised her hand and pointed, and in the crack in the distance, the nine heads of Jiuying were slowly turning, and the fire and flood in their mouths were intertwined, making a deafening roar, and were about to break through Lin Wanqiu's seal. "In three days, Bianjing will be destroyed. And you only need to sacrifice a ray of your soul to become a hero who saves the people."
Lin Feng looked at the unconscious Lin Wanqiu. Her pale face was like a withered flower, fragile and helpless. He then looked at the crumbling golden rune, which seemed to be the last link between him and hope. The words of the mirror spirit and Duan Litang's warning kept echoing in his mind, and he was in an unprecedented struggle. The Qingming Mirror vibrated more and more violently in his hand, as if urging him to make a decision. The cracks on the mirror no longer oozed his blood, but wisps of golden soul fire, which flickered, as if telling of Lin Feng's inner entanglement and pain.
"I." Lin Feng was about to speak, but was interrupted by a thunderous roar. One of the Nine Infants' heads broke through the seal of the rune, and the scorching flames instantly ignited the surrounding buildings. The raging fire spread rapidly, and the heat wave rushed over. Lin Feng's hair and clothes were scorched by the flames, and his skin was burned by the high temperature. But his eyes became extremely firm at this moment, as if he had finally found the direction of his heart after a painful choice. He held the Qingming Mirror tightly, pressed his hand on the mirror, let those pale arms grab his wrist, and said loudly: "I swear to you - but if you dare to hurt Wanqiu, I will not let you succeed even if my soul is torn apart."
The mirror spirit let out a joyful laugh, and the laugh echoed in the mirror space, like the chanting of a devil. The entire mirror space began to distort and deform, like a crumpled piece of paper. Her shadow gradually became solid, while Lin Feng's face became paler and paler, as if his life was being drained away bit by bit. In the distance, Lin Wanqiu's eyelashes trembled slightly, as if she felt something, and a tear slid down her cheek and dripped onto the golden rune that was breaking under her. The tear slowly spread on the rune, as if carrying some mysterious power, trying to stop the rune from breaking.
