Chapter 50: Entry 2 -- Missing blind girl.

There was a girl.

Small and frail, with deep-set eyes that seemed to absorb the dim light of the orphanage. Her tangled hair framed a pale, delicate face, and her presence was as subtle as a whisper in the night.

She was a very lonely girl.

She lived in an orphanage, ignorant of the larger world.

If the heavens had wanted, she would have lived a very peaceful life, filled with love.

But like other children in that gloomy place, the heavens aren’t so kind.

The orphanage wasn’t a place of refuge; it was a dreary place, where they were fed for a purpose.

None of them would ever know the warmth of a mother’s embrace; visitors rarely crossed the threshold, and the silence in the halls was broken only by the shuffling of small feet or muffled sobs in the night.

Children in that dark corner never numbered more than 30. Whenever a new face appeared, another would vanish, swiftly, quietly, as if swallowed by the shadows that lingered in every corner.

Where they went, she never bothered to ask. She didn’t care enough to pay attention.

"I will find out when it gets to my turn," she would murmur, her voice barely louder than her thoughts, resigned to the uncertainty that clung to her future.

That day never came. She was always rejected. She was used to it. People tend to ignore her.

Then came a day when gnawing hunger finally broke the timid girl’s resolve, pushing her past the boundaries of fear and obedience, and driving her to do something she never would have dared before.

The once-a-day daily meal they usually had ceased to support her now-grown body.

She was the oldest child in this dark corner. She wasn’t going to survive without food in this harsh place.

So she stole food for the first time.

She listened to the voices in her head, overriding everything Mama had told her before.

She felt fear, but it was satisfying enough to do it again. It slowly became routine.

One day, after a successful heist, she went into a corner where she usually hid.

It was dark and usually scared away the other kids, but she got used to it; she was grown now.

Taking out the steaming hot buns, she slowly savoured them, fully focused on them until she felt a presence above her head.

In that instant, she knew there was no going back. She had been caught.

Tilting her head slowly, she looked up right at her captor.

The tall silhouette, she recognised.

The dark grey eyes that scared every soul that looked directly at them, she recognised.

[Mama is always watching.]

Then came the all-too-familiar voice.

That joke has been around since she first came to this place, but that day she became a believer.

Mama has never smiled since the first day she saw her, but that day she held a smile. A very scary smile.

’I was hungry, ’ she proclaimed, but to deaf ears it landed.

’A child must be punished for their wrongdoings. A bad child has no place on the dinner table.’ Mama said without giving her any chance at redemption.

That day, she was given away to a woman. A woman just as intimidating as Mama.

A woman who threw her into the abyss.

...

Xìyuān woke up with a violent start, her body jolting upright as icy beads of sweat traced trembling lines down her temple. Her delicate frame shook uncontrollably, haunted by the fragments of a memory she could never quite escape. Every muscle in her body was taut, as if she were still trapped in the nightmare’s grip. The darkness of her past, thick and suffocating, seemed to seep into the very air she breathed, reminding her that some wounds never truly heal, only settle deeper into the soul.

Her ultra-dark hair fanned wildly across the pillow, a tangled cascade that mirrored the turbulence within her mind. Each ragged breath escaped her lips in shallow bursts, like a warrior battered and bloodied after a relentless battle, exhausted, yet unwilling to yield entirely to defeat.

’That dream again. Why do you people make me see that? It’s so unfair.’ She stayed curled up in a fetal position on the mattress. The room was beautiful, adorned with luxurious items that couldn’t be afforded with money alone, but the eighteen-year-old girl was too blind to appreciate them.

[huhuhu, How pitiful.] Came a voice inside her head.

[I almost feel pity for you. Almost hehehe.] Came another deeper voice, vastly different from the first.

[These things could stop, you know.]

Her form trembled at that.

[Yes, yes. Save yourself the torment and release us.]

[Release us.]

[Release us.]

[Release us.]

[Release us.]

Her blue, glowing eyes darted from one corner to another, frequently changing shades with time.

Hundreds of voices from different individuals threatened to overwhelm her consciousness. She wrapped her hands around her ears to block out the noises, but that did nothing to alleviate the voices.

[Why hesitate?]

[Why burden yourself with this torment?]

She cried softly, silently replying. "Because you are all evil. You will hurt people. I don’t want that to happen."

[Humans are evil, too, you know. They sold you and abused you. You saw it, you heard it, you experienced it. The degenerate nature of human beings. Let us avenge you, let us protect you.]

The sobbing girl replied, "I was saved by a human, too. Some are kind and worth suffering for. I will not be the cause of death in this place."

[Hehehe, that old man will soon kick you out.] A voice came.

[Yes, you are useless to him.] Another continued.

[What use are you without even breaking your limits?]

[There is no other path to strength for you anymore.]

"I don’t believe you."

It has been almost nine years since she was rescued by Old Tian and brought with him to the archives mountain.

During these years, Xìyuān was cared for with a gentleness she had never known, enveloped in affection so abundant that her younger, starving self might have wept with longing and disbelief. Yet, even surrounded by warmth, the chill of her early suffering lingered stubbornly within.

But no matter how much effort she put into it, she still couldn’t break her limit at age 14. Tian had reassured her that she was more than qualified to pass the assessment, but come that faithful day, she was brutally rejected.

She could vividly remember the cold aura that washed over her body before retreating with disdain, denoting her failure.

[Are you going to cry?]

[Don’t worry, we won’t hurt anyone close to you.]

These voices first began immediately after she lost her sight. At first, she thought she had started to hallucinate, but they continued to prove their existence. It made her already difficult life a living hell.

According to Tian and the professionals consulted, there was no reason for her not to see. They tried every possible treatment that they could, but the conclusion was the same. She wasn’t blind; she just couldn’t see. How ironic: her case was the first to stomp every acclaimed alchemist and medicine king.

[Hey, release us. I feel danger starting to approach us.]

’Huh?’ That was a first. It was usually they who promised danger, but now the tone they sang was different from before. After hearing a single anthem from these mysterious beings every day for eight years, she found this situation very strange.

[Danger, danger. We will lose.]

[We need to go.]

[It is approaching.]

[It is far.]

[But too close for comfort.]

[Let us run for now.]

[How? She’s too weak.]

[Release us.]

[Release us.]

[Release us.]

The voices became chaotic, echoing in her consciousness. They spoke of a danger that was approaching, that much she could make out. They continued until...

[Enough.] A calm, raspy voice came, shutting out every other voice within. This one was different from the rest; it held an unshakeable authority.

Thinking it was all over, Xiyuan breathed a sigh of relief, but was suddenly terrified by that same voice chanting in a very strange language that she had never heard once in her life, but somehow understood perfectly.

[Using my flesh as an anchor, and ***** as sacrifice, i evoke myself to byspass the requirement for my summons.]

She couldn’t make out what the sacrifice was, but she had a nagging feeling that it was a very steep price to pay.

The dense energy, billions of miles around the archive region, became chaotic. Every practitioner felt it. Those cultivating in seclusion were affected the most as they suffered internal injuries from the violent rampaging of energy.

Those outside saw that Origin energy fled from the archive mountain, leaving the once-dense atmosphere barren.

This lasted only a few seconds before turning normal.

That day, Tian rushed to Xiyuan’s room to look for her, but she was gone. Vanished from thin air. There was no sign of struggle or any sign of invasion; she just disappeared.

The only thing that was left behind was a golden coin that had profound runes around it.