Have You Been Peeking into My Memories?

Fang Mo stood where he was without moving.

He could feel Dong'er's emotions. It was not simple sorrow, but a regret crushed by time, one that could never be undone.

"That was... one of the things I regretted most in my life."

Dong'er's voice had dropped to its lowest point.

"It wasn't that I regretted agreeing to her request. I regretted... why I had to wait until I was about to die before I was willing to face her."

The Spirit Sea fell into a prolonged silence.

Fang Mo stood in the darkness and waited for a long time.

Then he spoke. "Do you still want to see her?"

Dong'er's phantom stiffened.

Spirit Dong'er abruptly turned toward Fang Mo. Shock, longing, fear, and a faint glimmer of hope

all intertwined, leaving unprecedented cracks on that once-cold face.

"I..."

She hesitated.

A former Rakshasa God actually hesitated when faced with her daughter's call.

"There are people watching over her outside."

Dong'er's voice calmed down. The mist in her eyes faded, replaced by the insight and calculation belonging to the Rakshasa God.

"People from the Consecrated Hall—at least one Title Douluo—are secretly protecting her at all times."

Fang Mo nodded slightly.

After all, even from the original novel, he knew that the people of the Worship Hall spoiled her rotten.

"Wherever Xue'er goes, people from the Consecrated Hall follow."

Dong'er's voice was flat. "Because Qian Daoliu will never allow the Qian Clan's only bloodline to be exposed to any danger."

"If I manifested there and the people of the Consecrated Hall sensed me..."

Dong'er did not continue, but Fang Mo already understood.

The Worship Hall answered to Qian Daoliu.

If they discovered another Bibi Dong who looked exactly the same lingering around Qian Renxue during such a tense time, their first reaction would not be curiosity, but vigilance.

What was more, Dong'er carried Rakshasa Divinity. That cold aura steeped in death was naturally incompatible with the Qian Clan's Six-Winged Angel Martial Soul.

"You need somewhere no one can disturb you."

Fang Mo said.

Dong'er looked at him, and a complicated glint flashed through her eyes.

"You can do that?"

"I can try, but before that, I need to understand something."

Dong'er asked somewhat doubtfully,

"What is it?"

Fang Mo slowly said, "Bibi Dong, have you been peeking into my memories?"

Silence.

A long silence.

When she remained silent for so long that Fang Mo was about to speak again, Dong'er suddenly opened her mouth.

Yet her very first sentence left Fang Mo standing there in stunned silence.

"Fang Mo, I'm actually more curious—why do you so-called Transmigrators always like trying to win over my daughter and me?"

The Spirit Sea fell into a long, deathly silence.

Fang Mo stood at the center of the darkness, staring at that phantom, unable to say anything for a moment.

He had originally prepared countless arguments—explanations, confessions, even some half-truths and half-lies.

But Spirit Dong'er's single sentence tore all his scripts to shreds.

"You so-called Transmigrators."

Fang Mo repeatedly chewed over those words in his heart.

Not "you," but "you people."

That meant Spirit Dong'er had peeked at far more of his memories than he had anticipated.

Fang Mo's pupils contracted slightly, but his expression did not change at all.

He merely stood there, quietly looking into those dark red eyes.

"How much... did you see?"

Dong'er's phantom slowly drifted a step closer, amusement surfacing in her dark red eyes.

"You want to know?"

"Yes."

Dong'er fell silent for a moment.

She seemed to be weighing how much she should say, or perhaps recalling those chaotic, fragmented memories she had glimpsed.

"Your memories... are strange."

Dong'er's voice lowered, as though she were flipping through a book she could not understand.

"Part of them is complete, like a carefully bound book, every page crystal clear.

Those are your memories of our world—or rather, of this 'novel.'"

Fang Mo's heartbeat quickened.

"What did you see?"

"Your name really is Fang Mo. You lived on Earth and were an ordinary twenty-four-year-old."

Dong'er's tone was calm, as if she were reading from a file.

"You usually liked reading novels—not ordinary novels, but novels about us.

You reread the chapters about Bibi Dong countless times, especially the part of her past she could not bear to revisit."

Fang Mo said nothing, while Spirit Dong'er continued.

"You remember Jialing Pass. You remember that sword strike. You remember how I... or rather, she died."

Dong'er's voice trembled faintly. "You also remember a great many 'fanfictions.'"

Her tone suddenly turned dangerous, and her dark red eyes narrowed slightly.

"You should know better than I do what those 'fanfictions' wrote about, shouldn't you?"

The corner of Fang Mo's mouth twitched uncontrollably.

Memories of his previous life surged into his mind like a tide.

Those absurd, ridiculous, blush-inducing fanfiction plots.

Brother Jie, A-Wei, Yu Xiaogang picking up soap, Tang San being abused...

His expression instantly became a spectacle.

Watching the change in his expression, Dong'er leaned her phantom forward slightly, a trace of barely perceptible irritation flashing through her eyes.

"What are you laughing at?"

"I wasn't laughing."

"Your mouth is twitching."

Fang Mo took a deep breath and forcibly suppressed the turbulent emotions in his heart.

"Fine. You're right. I really have read many novels about this world."

He paused, and his gaze turned serious.

"But what I want to know more is... when did you start peeking into my memories?"

Dong'er's phantom stiffened slightly. "From the moment you entered the Spirit Sea."

"So you looked on the first day?"

"..."

Spirit Dong'er said nothing. Fang Mo nodded lightly, as if he had finally confirmed a suspicion.

"So that night, when I told you about Jialing Pass, the reason you were shocked wasn't because I knew about Jialing Pass."

Fang Mo took a step forward, bringing those dark red eyes within arm's reach.

"It was because you saw my memories. What shocked you wasn't that I knew, but the world you yourself were in."

Dong'er said nothing.

But Fang Mo could feel that amid those cold spiritual fluctuations was an extra hint of anger at being seen through.

"You didn't deny it." Fang Mo nodded slightly. "That means I guessed right."

The silence lasted a long time.

Then Dong'er's phantom took a step back, and a complicated light surfaced in her eyes.

It was not anger, but the exhaustion of having all her disguises stripped away.

"You're right."

Her voice became hoarse.

"I saw your memories from the first day. I saw the entire plot of this novel.

I saw... how the person I was before becoming me walked step by step toward Jialing Pass."

Fang Mo listened quietly.

"I saw her go mad for Yu Xiaogang. I saw Qian Xunji hurt her.

I saw her coldness toward Xue'er. I saw her finally stand before Jialing Pass and have Tang San's sword pierce her heart."