A Fated Encounter

Huo Yuhao stopped walking.

The golden thread no longer extended.

For three days, it had stretched before his eyes like an invisible rope, pulling him through fields, villages, and official roads, until he finally entered this boundless Star Dou Great Forest. It had guided him around the territories of ten-thousand-year soul beasts and away from dangerous auras, leading him step by step, neither hurried nor slow, as though waiting for him, yet also guiding him toward some destined place.

Now, it had stopped.

It descended from the Eye of Eternity between his brows, extending straight ahead before landing on a dirt mound not far away.

On a soul beast.

It was a soul beast Huo Yuhao had never seen before.

Its golden fur gleamed beneath the sunlight, as though it wore the sun's radiance upon its body. Its build lay somewhere between that of a lion and a dragon, with a powerful frame and smooth, forceful muscles. Yet it possessed a pair of dragon claws, their sharp tips glinting with an eerie cold light. Its four hooves rested upon the ground, and with every step, golden flames rose beneath them—the flames scorched the earth without leaving a single mark, as though they were merely illusions of light.

It stood atop the dirt mound, looking down at him.

Huo Yuhao's breathing stopped for an instant.

Not because of its strength, though it truly was terrifyingly powerful. He could sense that this soul beast's aura was unfathomable, stronger than any soul beast he had ever encountered.

What made him freeze was something else.

Within his Sea of Spirit, the Eye of Eternity began to tremble violently.

It was the first time it had reacted so intensely.

Six years had passed. It had always hung deep within his Sea of Spirit like an ancient statue, cold, distant, and untouchable. No matter how he tried to communicate with it, no matter how much his spiritual power increased, it had remained completely still.

But now, it was trembling.

Rose-gold light flickered violently, as though someone were desperately suppressing something—some emotion on the verge of overflowing.

Skydream Iceworm's voice sounded, tinged with surprise. "This is..."

He did not finish. Because he did not know what to say either.

Ice Empress said nothing, but her aura became unsettled as well. As a soul spirit who had followed Huo Yuhao for years, this was the first time she had felt such an abnormal fluctuation.

Snow Empress's voice rang out, carrying unprecedented gravity. "What is wrong with it?"

No one answered her.

Because a voice came from deep within the Eye of Eternity.

"Qiu'er..."

The voice was very soft, so soft it was like a sigh. So soft it was like the unconscious murmur of someone asleep. So soft it was like a call across an eternal night, traversing endless time before finally reaching its destination.

It was not Huo Yuhao speaking.

It was not anyone speaking.

The Eye of Eternity itself was speaking.

Huo Yuhao was stunned.

Qiu'er?

Who was that?

He raised his head and looked again at the golden soul beast.

Then he saw it.

There was an eye on its forehead as well.

A red vertical eye. Its slit pupil narrowed slightly as it stared unblinkingly at him. There was no hostility in its gaze, no vigilance, none of the wariness soul beasts usually showed when encountering humans. There was only an indescribable complexity, as though it were looking at an old acquaintance it had lost long ago, and also at a stranger it had never met but somehow found familiar.

The end of the Destiny Line lay within that red vertical eye.

The golden thread descended from Huo Yuhao's Eye of Eternity, extending straight ahead before finally sinking into that red vertical eye. Like two threads that had once been separated, they had finally found each other.

Huo Yuhao suddenly understood.

It was this beast.

That golden thread had guided him for three days, across the territories of countless soul beasts and away from countless potential dangers—just so he could see it.

Or rather, so it could see him.

The soul beast was looking at him as well.

Its gaze fell upon him, upon the open Eye of Eternity on his forehead, upon the golden thread linking the two of them. It did not move or make a sound. It merely looked at him.

As though confirming something.

Or as though waiting for something.

Time passed second by second.

Sunlight filtered through the branches and leaves, casting mottled shadows across the dirt mound. The wind swept past the treetops with a rustling sound. Unknown birds called out from the distant forest, one cry after another, as though accompanying this silent confrontation.

Huo Yuhao stood there, not knowing what to do.

Within his Sea of Spirit, that voice did not sound again. The Eye of Eternity no longer trembled, merely hanging silently as though nothing had happened. But Huo Yuhao knew that moment had been real.

It had called it Qiu'er.

It knew it.

Then what about it?

Did it know it too?

He did not know. He only saw that golden soul beast still watching him, with something in its gaze he could not understand.

The sun began to sink westward.

Huo Yuhao suddenly moved.

He walked toward the river nearby.

Qian Daoliu watched from afar but did not follow. He merely stood beneath a large tree with his hands tucked into his sleeves, his gaze shifting between Huo Yuhao and the soul beast. No expression could be seen on his face. He did not ask Huo Yuhao what he intended to do, did not remind him to be careful, and said nothing at all. He simply stood there like a silent shadow.

Huo Yuhao stopped by the riverbank.

He crouched down and reached into the water. The river was icy cold, carrying the crisp chill unique to the depths of the forest, like countless fine needles lightly pricking his skin. His Spiritual Detection spread out and sank beneath the water, quickly finding what he was looking for.

Several fish.

Plump fish swished their tails leisurely through the clear water, completely unaware of what was about to happen.

He knocked them unconscious with soul power and scooped them ashore. Then he searched through the grass by the river for a while and found several plants he recognized—seasonings his mother had once taught him to identify. Crushed and sprinkled over fish, they could remove the fishy smell and enhance the flavor.

He cleaned the fish, skewered them on branches, and returned to the foot of the dirt mound.

The soul beast was still standing there. During the time he had been gone, it had not moved at all, its gaze following him the entire time. It watched him walk to the river, crouch down, catch fish, search for herbs, and prepare them—it watched every movement he made, as though observing him, and also as though confirming something.

Huo Yuhao stopped more than ten paces away from it. He found a flat stone, set the fish over it, then took a firestarter from his robes and lit the dead branches beneath it.

The flames danced, licking at the fish's surface.

He began grilling fish.

His mother had taught him how.

Back then, he had been very young and unable to help with anything. He would simply watch from the side as his mother set up the charcoal fire, cleaned the fish, stuffed a handful of herbs into their bellies, skewered them on branches, and roasted them over the fire.

He had asked his mother why she added those herbs.

His mother had said she had learned it in the village when she was little. Adding them got rid of the fishy smell. The village had been poor then, and fish was something people only ate during the New Year. Every household roasted them that way, and the fish turned out fragrant and tender, even the bones becoming crisp.

He had asked if she could teach him.

His mother had smiled, reached out to rub his head, and said she would teach him once he grew up.

But he had not gotten the chance to grow up.

He had only been six when his mother died. From that day on, no one ever rubbed his head again, and no one ever taught him to grill fish beside a charcoal fire. The names of those herbs, the way to prepare fish, those days he could never return to—he had thought he had forgotten them all.

But when he crouched beside this unfamiliar river and reached into the water, all those memories suddenly came back.

Like a surging tide.

His eyes stung a little.

But he did not let himself dwell on it. The Spirit Eyes' Spiritual Detection quietly spread, adjusting every one of his movements to perfection. The heat, the timing for turning the fish, the amount of salt—everything was under his control.

The first fish was soon done.

Its skin was golden, crisp, and glistening with sizzling oil. The flesh was tender and juicy, revealing snowy white strands with a gentle poke of the branch. The herbs inside its belly gave off a rich fragrance that drifted toward the dirt mound, toward the golden soul beast.

Huo Yuhao raised his head and looked at it.

Its nostrils twitched slightly.

Then it moved.

It walked down from the dirt mound, step by step, slowly and steadily. The golden flames beneath its hooves brightened and dimmed with its steps, like blooming golden lotuses that opened and withered in the twilight. It stopped five steps in front of Huo Yuhao.

Then it crouched down.

It was about five times Huo Yuhao's size. Even while crouched, it was still a head taller than him on tiptoe. It sat before him, golden fur glowing softly beneath the setting sun, its two front claws neatly tucked in front of itself, its eyes fixed directly on the fish in his hand.

That gaze was far too focused.

Focused like a child who had been hungry for a long time and had finally seen food.

Huo Yuhao looked at it.

It looked at him.

Then it looked at the fish in his hand.

Huo Yuhao suddenly wanted to laugh.

He did not know why he wanted to laugh. This was clearly a soul beast powerful enough to kill him with ease. He should have been nervous, afraid, and kept his distance. Yet seeing it stare so intently at the fish made him want to laugh.

He held the fish out to it.

The soul beast froze for a moment, as though it had not expected him to offer it so readily. Its ears twitched, surprise flashing through its eyes. Then it lowered its head toward the fish, its nostrils moving as it sniffed it again and again.

For a long time.

As though confirming it was not poisoned.

Huo Yuhao did not move. He simply held up the fish and waited.

At last, it took a small bite.

In that instant, Huo Yuhao saw its eyes light up.

It was an instinctive reaction it could not conceal. Its pupils abruptly widened, its vertical slits contracting sharply, before its entire face practically spelled out the words "delicious."

It finished the fish in two bites.

It did not even spit out the bones.

Then it raised its head and looked at Huo Yuhao, its gaze filled with undisguised anticipation.

Huo Yuhao handed over the second fish.

It accepted it and, this time, did not hesitate. It began eating in huge bites. Huo Yuhao watched it eat with focus and seriousness, until even its tail began to sway gently—

Its tail?

He lowered his head and looked.

Yes, it was wagging its tail.

That golden, fluffy tail was gently swaying behind it.

Huo Yuhao froze for a moment.

Then, as though possessed, he reached out and stroked its neck.

Its fur was soft and thick, like the finest velvet blanket or a quilt that had been warmed in the winter sun. The warmth against his palm was comforting, carrying a faint pulse of soul power. That pulse resonated softly with his own soul power, like two magnets drawing one another together.

The soul beast froze.

It stopped chewing and turned to look at him.

Huo Yuhao's hand stiffened in midair. He did not dare move.

Oh no.

It was angry.

But it merely snorted.

Then it lowered its head and continued eating.

Huo Yuhao relaxed.

Tentatively, he stroked it again.

It did not react.

A second time.

Still no reaction.

A third time.

It nudged closer to him.

Huo Yuhao's eyes curved into crescents.

By the time the third fish was ready, he already dared to stroke it a few more times. The soul beast ate its fish while allowing his hand to roam over its neck. Whenever he happened to touch a ticklish spot, it would tilt its head slightly, letting out a satisfied rumble from its throat.

The sound was low and deep, seeming to rise from the depths of its chest, carrying a lazy sort of pleasure.

Like—like a cat being petted comfortably.

The corners of Huo Yuhao's lips lifted.

With the fourth fish, he grew even bolder. No longer content with its neck, he began stroking its head. Its two ears were hidden amid its golden fur, soft and warm, wonderfully pleasant to touch. Its ears twitched slightly while it ate, as though expressing some emotion.

Whenever he touched one, its ear twitched once.

He touched it again, and it twitched again.

Huo Yuhao could not help laughing aloud.

The soul beast raised its head and looked at him. There was something strange in its gaze—like helplessness, but also indulgence. As though it were saying, What are you laughing at? Have you never seen anyone eat before?

Then it lowered its head and continued eating.

The fifth fish.

The sixth fish.

Huo Yuhao did not know how many fish he had grilled. He only remembered running back and forth between the river and dirt mound several times. By the end, he had nearly caught every fish in that river. His hands were covered in fish scales and charcoal ash, and several dark smudges streaked his face, but he did not care in the least.

By the time it finished the last fish, the sun had completely sunk beneath the treetops.

Only a dim red afterglow remained on the horizon, dyeing the forest into a hazy expanse of shadow. Twilight surged in from every direction like an enormous net, enveloping heaven and earth.

The soul beast licked its lips in satisfaction, stretched out its body, and lay down before Huo Yuhao.

It rested its chin on its front claws, closed its eyes, and let out a low purr from its throat. Its golden fur still gave off a faint glow in the twilight, like a warm flame quietly burning in the darkness.

Huo Yuhao sat beside it, one hand resting on its neck as he stroked it again and again.

It felt good, didn't it?

He did not know what she was thinking, but he felt very comfortable.

Since his mother died, since that night, he had never felt this way again. The feeling of not having to think about anything, not having to worry about anything. The feeling of simply sitting there, simply touching, simply being quietly together.

He did not need to think about cultivation, the future, those hatreds, those responsibilities, or the things weighing on his shoulders.

Just sitting there.

Just touching her.

Just quietly staying together.

It was strange.

He clearly did not know her.

Yet she gave him the feeling that they had known each other for a very, very long time.

As if they were meant to be like this.

The soul beast was thinking the same thing.

She closed her eyes and let that little hand roam over her body. That hand was small and soft, yet it carried a strange warmth. That warmth seeped in through her skin and all the way into her heart.

She did not know why she did not reject him.

She did not know why she had felt close to him from the very first moment she saw him.

She did not know why the golden thread hanging down from her forehead was connected to him.

She only knew that this human reminded her of something.

Of things very distant and very vague.

Those things had long been forgotten during her long life, buried beneath layer upon layer of a thousand years of loneliness, sinking into the deepest depths of her memories. Yet at this moment, those fragments of memory were slowly rising to the surface, like wreckage at the bottom of the deep sea illuminated by a beam of light.

She saw an endless forest.

She saw herself running through the woods, dead leaves tangled in her golden fur.

She saw herself spending one century after another alone, with only powerful yet distant beings like the black dragon and giant bear by her side.

She saw countless sunrises and sunsets, countless springs, summers, autumns, and winters, countless identical days.

Those memories surged in like a tide, carrying the weight of a thousand years, crushing her until she could barely breathe.

But at the same time, she saw other things as well.

She saw a stretch of ruins.

She saw a corpse whose face could not be seen clearly.

She saw a warm hand reaching toward that child.

She saw countless sleepless nights, countless pains endured through gritted teeth.

She saw those warm moments: a mother's smile, the hand of that blonde woman rubbing his head, the sight of that old man sitting cross-legged in the sunlight.

Things she had never seen, emotions she had never felt, all surged into her heart at this moment. Like a window that had never been opened before, suddenly blown open by the wind.

Then she heard a voice.

That voice grew louder and clearer, as if it were calling her.

"Qiu'er..."

"Qiu'er..."

That voice came from that vertical eye. From the vertical eye pressed against hers. From that human she had never met, yet found inexplicably familiar.

Qiu'er.

Is it calling me?

She did not know.

But suddenly, she really wanted to answer.

Night was approaching.

She opened her eyes and pushed herself up.

Huo Yuhao's hand slid down from her neck.

She looked at him. The vertical eye on his forehead was still open, its rose-gold radiance especially bright in the dusk. That golden thread hung from the vertical eye, connecting all the way to her forehead, to her red vertical eye.

She lowered her head.

Little by little, she brought her forehead close to his.

The two vertical eyes pressed together.

At that instant, a golden light broke free from the Eye of Eternity and shot into the Three-Eyed Golden Lion's Eye of Destiny. Rose-gold light and red light intertwined, illuminating the clearing in the dusk.

They saw each other's memories.

The things words could not describe, the things buried deep in their hearts, the things neither of them dared touch—all of them were laid bare at that moment.

Huo Yuhao saw them.

He saw her thousand years. The endless forest, the lonely running, countless identical sunrises and sunsets. He saw those enormous and powerful beings around her: the black dragon, the giant bear... They protected her, yet could not keep her company.

He saw her loneliness, the kind of loneliness that seeped into the bones and could not be put into words.

A thousand years of loneliness.

Those emotions surged into his heart like a tide, heavy and suffocating, crushing him until he could barely breathe.

She saw his.

A blood-red giant hammer, ruins, corpses. That hand reaching toward him. Sleepless nights. Pain endured through gritted teeth. And those warm things: his mother's smile, Qian Renxue's hand rubbing his head, Qian Daoliu sitting cross-legged in the sunlight.

The hatred and warmth of the human world.

Things she had never seen, emotions she had never felt, all surged into her heart at this moment. Like a window that had never been opened before, suddenly blown open by the wind.

Beyond that window was a world she had never seen.

The light gradually faded.

She slowly raised her head and gave Huo Yuhao one last look.

Those black eyes were looking at her too. There was something in them that she could not understand, like reluctance, yet also like something else.

She wanted to say something.

But she did not know how to speak.

She merely turned around.

And walked toward the depths of the Star Dou Great Forest.

Golden flames bloomed beneath her hooves, one after another, lighting the path in the dusk. Her figure grew farther and fainter, until she finally disappeared into the depths of the dense forest.

Huo Yuhao stood where he was, looking in the direction where she had vanished.

For a long, long time.

Until the sky had completely darkened.

Until the moon rose and scattered silver-white light over him.

Qian Daoliu's voice came from behind him. "Let's go."

Huo Yuhao did not move.

He lowered his head and looked at his hands. The sensation of golden fur still lingered on them, warm and soft. He raised his hands before his eyes and looked at them for a long time.

In the Sea of Spirit, the Eye of Eternity hung quietly there. Its rose-gold radiance had dimmed considerably, as if it had exhausted all its strength.

But Huo Yuhao knew that it had not fallen asleep.

It was watching that direction.

Just like him.