CHAPTER 913: THE MUSICAL FAIRY, QING LUAN [THE SACRED LAND]

"You remind me of a legendary figure I once read about in a book," Shenlian Yingyue said with a subtle smile.

Qing Luan was a musical fairy in the Heavenly Realm. She comprehended the silent language of life, the whisper of sprouting seeds, the symphony of crashing waves, the heartbeat of mountains, and the sigh of dying stars. She understood nature’s balance: the push and pull of creation and decay, the dance of light and shadow that wove through all realms.

Her music carried the weight of this wisdom. Every plucked string echoed with the birth of universes. Every note held the melancholy of fading worlds. When she played, the melodies weren’t just sound. They were the laughter of newborn gods, the tears of forgotten spirits, the war cries of ancient warriors, and the lullabies of eternal night.

To hear her play was to witness the universe confessing its secrets.

Her music flowed like a timeless river, each syllable carrying the weight of centuries lived and wisdom hard-won.

When she spoke, the air itself seemed to still, for her words were not merely sounds but living echoes of ancient truths. Polished smooth by experience and offered with the quiet certainty of one who had witnessed the turning of ages.

How had the world’s most revered muse become its most reviled devil?

Once, Fairy Qing Luan had been grace incarnate, a being whose music could coax blossoms from barren earth and tears from stone. Now, the realms spat her name like a curse. They called her a hypocrite draped in false divinity, her every act laced with venomous intent.

The accusations were endless.

She had slaughtered her own clan for the ancient musical relics they guarded.

She had stolen her sister’s betrothed, consumed by envy of her sibling’s celestial favor.

She had betrayed her closest friends when they uncovered the secrets of the Sacred Land of Music.

Worst of all was her art, a weapon disguised as beauty. Her melodies slithered into the soul, addicting listeners until they were hollow puppets, desperate for another note.

But the truth, as always, was more tragic.

The real genius had been her sister, the true Musical Fairy, whose talent outshone the heavens themselves. In her jealousy, Qing Luan had stolen more than her sister’s destiny. She had twisted her own soul to claim it. And when the deception unraveled, the world made her pay, hunted, banished, broken.

Shenlian Yingyue regarded the translucent spirit with thoughtful eyes. As Qing Luan materialized before her, the pieces clicked into place. This sacred realm must have belonged to the fallen Musical Fairy herself. The air between them thrummed with unspoken history.

"Are you not afraid of me?" Qing Luan’s voice echoed like wind chimes in an abandoned temple.

Yingyue’s lips curved slightly. "Why should I be?"

"When my sister ascended as the true Musical Fairy, I became invisible. Her radiance eclipsed my existence. Those who spoke my name would vanish like morning mist. Eventually, they branded me a cursed star, an omen to be avoided at all costs." A ripple passed through Qing Luan’s spectral form.

"Those are merely others’ limited perceptions," Shenlian Yingyue countered, her voice steady as ancient bedrock.

The ghostly fairy stilled, her translucent features registering genuine surprise at such simple wisdom.

"Truthfully, I never believed those tales," Shenlian Yingyue continued. The historical records had left her skeptical, but now, standing before Qing Luan’s essence, she felt certain. This was no monster, but a soul profoundly wronged.

The Musical Fairy Qing Luan was taken aback. A short answer, yet deeply meaningful.

"Oh? And why is that?" Qing Luan asked, the corners of her lips lifting into a curious smile.

"Everyone sees the world through their own lens. The universe holds endless truths. Don’t let others’ doubts shake your belief. Real understanding doesn’t come from proof. It rises from within. Trust your heart, and keep going," Shenlian Yingyue said, repeating the very words the Musical Fairy had spoken earlier.

Qing Luan’s heart stirred. Her own lover, her family, even her closest friends, none of them had believed in her. And yet, this stranger did. Without needing explanations, without needing proof.

She slowly floated forward, her movements graceful and light. As her slender finger approached Shenlian Yingyue’s forehead, the young woman didn’t flinch. Seeing this, Qing Luan smiled gently.

"Here," she whispered.

A golden light pierced into Shenlian Yingyue’s forehead. She gasped as something ancient and powerful latched onto her soul.

"The Sacred Land," Shenlian Yingyue exclaimed, stunned.

What unfolded before her eyes was a realm beyond imagination. The Sacred Land stretched endlessly, its size rivaling the greatest islands on Earth. Time held no sway here. The air shimmered with dense spiritual energy. Every patch of soil brimmed with treasures: celestial flowers that bloomed once every thousand years, extinct herbs lost to the annals of time, relics from the Heavenly and Immortal Realms that pulsed with forgotten power.

Emerald hills rolled into jagged peaks. Beneath their surfaces lay veins of spiritual ore. In their shadows, rare herbs pulsed like living hearts. On the highest summits, fruits grew that could prolong life or elevate cultivation beyond mortal limits. It was a realm untouched, raw, and wild.

If her Ethereal Small World was a meticulously tended garden and celestial paradise, then this was nature’s purest expression, a sanctuary where myths were born and the veil between realms ran thin.

The Sacred Land of the Forgotten Immortal wasn’t merely a place of ancient artifacts. It was a vast treasure trove of unparalleled cultivation resources, each one steeped in danger, mystery, and the echoes of bloodshed from battles long past.

For millennia, its location remained a mystery. Immortals searched, fought, and died, pouring all they had into the hunt. One by one, they gave up. The pursuit, as tempting as it was, became an empty obsession. Most chose instead to chase what they could reach.

And yet, Shenlian Yingyue had gained entry effortlessly, without bloodshed, without a battle.

And beyond that, she had inherited the Musical Fairy’s talents.

"Who says every treasure must be won through blood and tears?" Qing Luan said softly, as if reading her thoughts. "Your wisdom and your heart are beyond anything I imagined. You not only strive to grow stronger, you remain grounded in nature, in clarity, in purpose. You deserve this."

"Fairy Immortal, you..." Shenlian Yingyue was at a loss for words.

"You’re wondering why I’m giving my Sacred Land away, aren’t you? Because my soul is about to vanish. I’ve been waiting, waiting for the one destined to carry on my legacy," the Musical Fairy Qing Luan blinked gently.

"Sadly, you already have a master. Even if you can’t be my disciple, I will still pass my inheritance to you. It’s fate that brought us together, and for that, I’m grateful. In the future, I only hope you’ll use the skills I’ve given you to help those who suffer from injustice. I won’t ask you to save the world or everyone. Who you choose to save, that will be your choice."