Re-birth: The Beginning after the End-Chapter 187: UNCONCIOUS

Li Hua drifted in silver mist, her consciousness scattered like petals on water. Time had no meaning here—she could have been floating for moments or millennia. Occasionally, obsidian threads would pulse through the haze, each one carrying echoes of her recent dissolution.

"Don't leave..."

The voice reached her as if from underwater, familiar yet strange. In her mind's eye, she saw fragments of herself being pulled back together by threads of darkness. But something else lingered in those spaces between realities—memories that didn't belong to her, couldn't belong to her.

A man in flowing black robes stood at the edge of a cliff, his figure stark against the moon hanging low in the night sky. When he turned, her heart stuttered—it was Mo Xing, but not as she knew him. This version was refined by time, power radiating from him like heat from a flame. She watched from the shadows as he raised his hand, and darkness itself seemed to bow to his will, dancing between his fingers like living ink.

The scene shifted, reality bleeding away like watercolors in rain.

Suddenly she was running through a field of night-blooming flowers, laughter bubbling from her throat with unfamiliar joy. But the body, the voice—they weren't hers. Or were they? A man's laughter echoed behind her, rich and warm like summer thunder. "You can't hide from me," he called, and the shadows reached for her playfully, like affectionate pets seeking attention.

Her legs finally surrendered, sending her tumbling onto a bed of soft grass and night-blooming flowers. Chest heaving, she drew in breaths scented with dew and moonlight. The shadows around her coalesced, deepening then parting as Mo Xing emerged from their embrace. He lowered himself beside her with deliberate grace, his presence enveloping her more completely than any darkness could. The gentle pressure of his body against hers sent warmth cascading through her veins like liquid gold. His fingers traced the curve of her cheek as he leaned closer, his breath a whisper against her skin.

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"When will you learn, my love?" The tenderness in his voice made her heart flutter beneath her ribs. "You can't outrun me. Not across time, not across realms."

Her lips curved into a smile, her eyes meeting his. "Who said I was running from you?" she breathed, the words hanging between them like a confession. Her fingers traced the line of his jaw, feeling both the unfamiliarity of this moment and the echo of countless similar touches. "Perhaps I just wanted to see if you'd follow."

Another pulse of obsidian through the silver mist, and the scene dissolved.

She found herself standing in a space of pure white, facing a figure that made her breath catch—her own shadow form, the same form she saw in the Silhouette Labyrinth. The shadow's eyes held ancient knowledge as it studied her with familiar intensity.

"Look at you," it whispered, her own voice echoing back at her with centuries of hidden meaning, "still the pathetic little girl with a hero complex."

The words should have stung, but in this space between consciousness and dreams, Li Hua felt only curiosity. Her shadow self wore her face like a familiar mask, but its eyes held something she couldn't quite grasp—memories from a life she had forgotten existed.

"Life after life," her shadow continued, moving with liquid grace through the white void, "always trying to save everyone. This man. Your sister. Your family..." A smile curved its lips, knowing and cruel. "Tell me, how many more lives will you live until you realize, you can't save anyone?"

"Life after life? What do you mean?" Li Hua asked.

The shadow's laughter echoed through the white void, a sound that held both mockery and something deeper—almost like grief. It turned away, its form rippling like dark water, refusing to answer.

She felt an unexpected desperation rise in her chest. "Tell me, please." Her voice softened, betraying more vulnerability than she'd intended. "Did... did I know Mo Xing in another life?"

Her shadow paused mid-step, and something in its posture changed—a subtle crumpling, like watching someone relive their deepest regret. When it finally turned back to face her, the centuries of practiced cruelty fell away, revealing eyes that held such profound sorrow that Li Hua felt tears gathering in her own. It was the kind of devastation that could only come from watching happiness slip through your fingers again and again, across lifetimes of repeated loss.

The white space around them seemed to dim, as if even reality itself was affected by the shadow's grief. For the first time, Li Hua wondered if its previous mockery had been a mask—a way to hide this raw pain that seemed to radiate from its very essence.

The scene began to dissolve, reality bleeding away at the edges. Li Hua reached out, her fingers passing through the fading form of her shadow self, trying to grasp at answers that slipped through her fingers like smoke. The last thing she saw was that knowing smile, tender yet sad, as if to say, Some questions answer themselves, if you're brave enough to remember.

Consciousness returned to her slowly.

The first thing she registered was scent—night-blooming flowers and mountain pine intertwined in a familiar combination that made her heart skip. Mo Xing's presence. Then came the softness of silk beneath her fingers, the gentle whisper of a breeze through her window, the distant chiming of spirit bells marking the hour.

She tried to open her eyes, but even that simple action felt like moving through water. Her body seemed to remember being scattered across realities, each movement careful and tentative, as if ensuring all her pieces had been properly reassembled.

The room gradually came into focus—her quarters, bathed in early morning light.

"Master, you're awake!" Little Firefly's anxious tone echoed in her consciousness, the sudden volume making her wince as if struck.

Mmmm...I'm sorry, Little Firefly. The words flowed through their spiritual connection, her thoughts still sluggish but warm with affection for her worried companion. She pressed fingertips gently against her temples, the spiritual bond momentarily overwhelming her fragile state.