Chapter 109: Give Up Everything and Come With Me?

The young woman stared blankly at the figure before her, drenched in blood, the steel blade in his hand dripping steadily onto the ground. Yet his face was remarkably youthful and eerily familiar to her.

Transparent eyes, long curled lashes, a high, proud nose, and the faint smile that always seemed to linger at the corners of his mouth.

“Xuan…” she whispered shakily, uttering the name from her nightmare.

This was the man who had given her a complete family, once warmed her heart, then wounded her deeply, and eventually vanished into the horizon. And now, they met again under such harrowing circumstances.

“Is it really you?” she questioned, her gaze sharp and doubtful, struggling to believe the reality before her. His brows were knitted tightly, his eyes icy cold, and the expression he wore looked upon her as one would a lamb awaiting slaughter. Yes, he intended to strike her down!

With a swift motion, he raised the steel blade, aiming directly at her.

Startled, she rolled aside just in time to narrowly avoid the blow.

Xuan wanted to kill her?! Was her subconscious telling her that this was how he truly was—dangerous and merciless?

Though she had never studied psychology, she knew that one’s mindset shaped their illusions. Wasn’t the essence of the Illusionist’s power to manifest the deepest fears and most dreaded horrors of the human heart?

Was she truly afraid of Xuan? Had the countless tales of his deeds instilled this fear within her?

Suddenly, she sensed a deeper, more visceral terror. When the Illusionist invoked others’ fears, did he not also perceive their most vulnerable spots?

Indeed, the Illusionist was the most terrifying being of all! She had completely fallen into his trap.

Her wild thoughts lasted only a moment before the cold blade unexpectedly pierced the fabric of her garment, embedding itself deeply in the muddy earth. She could no longer evade.

Her pale face reflected on the blood-stained blade. Terror gripped her as she stared at Xuan, feeling her heart pounding unevenly in her chest.

She feared him—not merely because of the violent acts he had wrought in the Eastern Palace, but because she herself had suffered greatly at his hands. What frightened her most was the possibility of being violated once again.

As if sensing her thoughts, Xuan grasped her collar with both hands. With a loud rip, her garment tore apart.

“Illusionist. You bastard!” she cursed silently, feeling her body firmly pressed down, a kiss tinged with the scent of blood trailing slowly from her cheek down across her body.

She struggled against the heavy weight and soft touch. Was this a dream?

Her fingers accidentally brushed against the blade. Suddenly, she clenched her palm tightly around the sharp steel.

Crimson blood trickled slowly through her fingers, seeping into the mud beneath. The sting jolted her senses, as if someone had dragged her through water, clearing her mind abruptly.

When she opened her eyes, all illusions vanished—no thick mist, no Xuan, her clothes intact. Only a barren, rocky landscape stretched before her.

Tearing a piece from her garment, she wrapped it tightly around the wound on her palm. The blade was real—a broken, half-shattered knife. She pulled it from the earth and staggered forward.

A thin mist arose again, and she instinctively covered her mouth and nose, unsure if she had time to react before the vision before her doubled.

Steadying herself and adjusting her focus, a scene unexpectedly unfolded.

She saw her child, hair braided into two high pigtails, sitting before a table laden with sumptuous dishes, smiling joyfully at her.

“How is this possible?” she murmured, suppressing her excitement even as her feet moved inexorably toward the child. “Baby! Baby!”

“Mommy!” the child reached out with chubby hands, beaming with crescent-shaped eyes.

“Kaoming.” A man appeared in her line of sight—refined features, frameless glasses perched on his nose, dressed in casual home attire with a floral apron tied around his waist. Holding a pot in one hand and a ladle in the other, he smiled warmly, “You’ve been wandering around so long. Finally, you’ve come back.”

“I’m back!” she whispered. Was this the most beautiful dream her heart could conjure? Even if it was a trap, she would willingly step into it.

The broken blade slipped from her hand as she took a step forward, but suddenly, her waist tightened, as if some invisible force dragged her aside.

She stared blankly toward the source of the pull, noticing a vague silhouette. The person opened their mouth to speak, but she could hear no words.

They brought something near her nose, and she sneezed violently, as if waking from a deep sleep, regaining her clarity.

Before her was a pale face, light-colored eyes filled with scrutiny, lips thin and tightly pressed. Her gaze dropped to his now-faded long hair, which tangled across her shoulder, her body inevitably pressed against his.

Her hand pushed against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat. She was stunned—was this a dream or reality?

“Look over there,” he said hoarsely.

She turned to see the place she had just tried to walk toward was a vast, soft mud pit. Anyone stepping into it would sink—no bird could even take flight from such a quagmire.

She gasped. How cruel the Illusionist was, to create her most cherished vision upon this deadly mire.

She glared at him furiously.

The Illusionist looked puzzled at the wound on her hand. “You cut yourself and stayed conscious, yet you insisted on walking into the mud pit. Why?”

Kaoming did not answer, only glared back. Did he truly not know—or was he pretending not to?

The Illusionist smiled faintly. “I understand now. Your home illusion was too perfect. Are those your family?”

Her anger flared. He did know.

“Where did you come from?” he asked, still smiling, though his gaze flickered uncertainly. “I’m certain you’re not from the Five Palaces. Tell me, where are you from?”

She pushed him away, eyes blazing with fury. “I won’t tell a liar!”

“Hm, first a chameleon, now a liar,” he teased, touching his nose playfully, lips curling into a sly smile. “Are these fresh words and new manners popular in your world, Commander Kaoming?”

She was startled—he had no surprise at her otherworldly identity. Seeing her face darken, he chuckled, “As a Gu master, a mediator between yin and yang realms, strange phenomena are natural.”

He accepted her as an outcast so calmly? She was astonished.

“You and I are both outsiders to this world,” he said cheerfully, as if delighted to find a kindred spirit. “I am a Gu master; you are a being from the Yin realm.”

Kaoming’s expression hardened. “My world is not the Yin realm!”

“Whatever it is, I don’t care,” the Illusionist stepped closer, extending his hand. “If I told you I would abandon this war, forsake everything in the Northern Palace, would you come with me?”

Kaoming was stunned. What was he saying? Abandon the Northern Palace? Go with him? Hadn’t he always treated her like an experiment? Was saving her not just because he was curious about her otherworldly identity?

Why issue such a misleading invitation to a test subject?

After a long moment, she forced out, “You… won’t be the Palace Emperor anymore?”

“Most women are greedy,” he said with a strange smile, “They want men to give up everything and have only them, to prove their sincerity. I’m trying to imitate that—wonder if you’re satisfied?”

His smile was strange; his words tinged with mischief. “But Commander Kaoming is no ordinary woman. If you want me to give you both my throne and my heart, I will try my best to satisfy you. What do you say?”

At last, Kaoming understood—he was letting her set the terms! To go with him, she could name any condition.

His words were tempting, but no sweet words could outweigh the horrors of his daily Gu trials.

Shuddering at the thought, she stepped back and declared loudly, “I have a husband!”

“The one named Xuan?” he smiled, as if all were already in his grasp. “I have already seen everything clearly in your dreams.”

“Don’t talk nonsense! I’m married, with a husband and child…” she argued stubbornly.

“Kaoming,” he shook his head gently. “I know your situation well enough; there’s no point in you saying more.”

Her hair stood on end. From that brief glimpse of Xuan’s presence, he claimed to know everything about her circumstances? Had she spoken more than she realized after being ensnared? Had she revealed secrets she shouldn’t have?

Terrifying! Her mind swarmed with such thoughts. This man was dreadful! With his Gu magic and illusions, everyone was transparent before him—no one could evade his piercing gaze.

“Come with me!” he said, eyes shining with a flickering light.

She caught that light and thought, Not good. From the first meeting, she knew this man’s gaze was dangerous; to meet his eyes was to invite disaster.

Though her mind screamed no, her eyes were glued as if by glue, unable to shift an inch.

The Illusionist smiled faintly; the gleam in his eyes grew more cunning. He stretched out his arm enticingly, “Come, come here.”

Obediently, Kaoming slowly raised her hand, reaching toward his fingers.

Suddenly, a sharp whistle pierced the air, a divine ray cutting straight through the mist, passing between their fingers, striking something behind with a brittle crack.

The Illusionist’s face changed drastically. He withdrew his terrifying gaze and looked back.

At the same moment, a deafening shout rose: “Ah! The incense burner fell!”

Kaoming shook herself, coming fully to her senses. The voice was too familiar—it was the camp servant.

“Master! Master! Someone knocked over the incense burner! The illusion smoke is gone!” the camp echoed with frantic cries.

“Silence!” the Illusionist’s eyes flashed with killing intent as he turned to look outside. “Who’s there? Show yourself!”