Chapter 19: The Phoenix and the Phoenix Tail

Raging torrent!
Falling from the sky!
Xu Mingsong thought to himself that in this life, he was simply destined to be at odds with rain!

The boundless flood stretched out like a surging silver screen, cascading down from the heavens, transforming into a colossal wave that swept across the world. The sky and the ocean merged into one, the vast expanse resembling a monstrous beast devouring everything, submerging the entire world in its embrace!

Someone—this unlucky soul caught in the flood—felt like a withered leaf trapped in a whirlpool, rolling and spinning helplessly. The icy water filled his mouth and nose, nearly suffocating him, a fierce choking sensation rising in his chest.

In the darkness, it was as if someone snapped their fingers sharply.

Snap!

Abruptly, he suddenly adapted, forcing his eyes open amid the torrent.

Damn it!

Submerged and flustered.

He struggled in the flood, only able to emit bubbling sounds, which were soon drowned out by the roaring water, buried beneath the endless flood.

His figure kept falling, seemingly endlessly.

Until, at one moment, he sensed the falling speed slow, the surrounding currents shifting from rushing torrents to calm flow, the noise no longer as wild as a waterfall.

—It’s about to stop.

Xu Mingsong's intuition flashed, and looking down, he found himself gently drifting toward a calm sea surface.

An infinite ocean, breathtakingly majestic. The distant horizon and the sea merged perfectly, blurring the line between ocean and sky.

Or perhaps, the sky was an inverted ocean.

Xu Mingsong stood on the sea, gazing up at the spectacle above—the ocean above was still ocean, only an upside-down sea of the heavens, shimmering with countless tiny silver lights, as if the entire world was embraced by this vast blue.

His gaze returned downward.

The sea beneath his feet was unusually tranquil, though distant waves rose and fell in layers.

“You finally came.”

Xu Mingsong shivered and looked up toward the source of the voice.

On the sea stood a figure, back turned to him, posture remarkably upright, a blade—or perhaps a sword—hung at his waist, standing like a sculpture, motionless.

From the stance alone, it was clear this person was terrifyingly powerful.

The figure moved.

He turned around.

A strong sense of danger surged in Xu Mingsong’s chest—an instinct born of the demon blood in his heart—making his hair stand on end.

Until the hooded figure pulled back his hood, revealing a handsome face beneath—damn, if he smiled devilishly, he’d surely charm countless young girls in their prime!

But that was his own face!

Though seventeen to eighteen brought some change in appearance, it was unmistakably himself!

Xu Mingsong froze in place, stunned as if seeing a ghost.

“Holy shit!”

His retreating steps sent ripples across the water as he shouted in terror.

“Wh-who the hell are you?”

Meeting Xu Mingsong’s shocked gaze, the man removed his coat, revealing beneath it the male sports uniform of Winter City No. 4 High School.

“Shit!”

Today’s cultural richness was off the charts.

“Hey, still dumbfounded? Didn’t you see this irresistibly handsome face?”

The other feigned a melancholic sigh.

Then waved his hand: “Also, don’t be so quick to curse. Save your swearing for later when you really need it. For now, calm down and let me explain the rules between us.”

Xu Mingsong pointed at him: “To hell with your rules! First, explain—where is this? Who are you?!”

The waves never ceased.

In the distance, the waves rolled like angry dragons, layering upon each other, surging upward. The man glanced over Xu Mingsong’s shoulder briefly before withdrawing his gaze.

—Not cooperative, huh?

The figure shrugged.

“Well, if that’s the case, let me explain first.”

He walked toward Xu Mingsong, each footstep sending ripples across the dreamlike water, arriving as though from a distant shore.

“This place is the depths of your soul, or your dream... In short, it’s where we’ll meet from now on, and where I’ll be your teacher.”

“As for me, you probably guessed already, right?”

The man curled his lips into an extremely mischievous smile: “I’m you. The future you.”

He opened his arms as if to embrace him.

Xu Mingsong dodged away, swallowing hard, his heart trembling.

“So you left the information?”

“Yeah.” He nodded with a smile. “Remember the ‘inheritance’? Ming is part of it, and so am I—packaged with Ming as a cheat device to tutor you. Since you can see me, it means you’ve safely passed the first stage. From now on... to keep it simple, just call me ‘Yan.’”

Yan?

Phoenix Yan?

—Gentleman? Sage?

What a shameless guy! Typical me!

Xu Mingsong exhaled deeply and finally sat down, asking, “You’re still here? Didn’t you say you were dead? Aren’t my memories of you from the moment you died?”

But you not only didn’t lie down in a coffin—you appeared in my mind’s world.

He couldn’t help but feel puzzled.

Honestly, that “future diary” was pretty mystical—if his future self was already dead, how could that dead man have sent messages back to the past?

Could he have a built-in death message?

Or a notorious B·I·G device? Automatically triggering after death and sending messages to the past?

No matter what, the main player is here. Need clues or the future? Just ask him!

As for whether this “future me” would grow jealous, even covet his pure youthful body... best not to mention that now, or he might turn hostile! That guy looked ridiculously strong—wouldn’t he just get pummeled?

—Better not anger him, just play along for now.

“What nonsense are you talking about?” Yan shook his head in disbelief. “Forget it, with your personality, you’re probably still wary of me, or trying to get intel, right?”

“I’m you, don’t you know your own nature? Since I’ve lost, the loser naturally goes where losers belong... The people I love, everything I care about, are buried in the future. They don’t exist in what you call the ‘past’ now, only in my memories as a defeated dog.”

He laughed, but it was cold.

“Besides, I’m just an inheritance—you think I’m still alive?”

He tapped his own head lightly, his gaze dropping slightly: “Listen to this sound, crisp, right? Crisp is good—it means there’s nothing inside, empty and hollow.”

Xu Mingsong was stunned.

“I told you, I’m dead.”

Yan’s dark eyes seemed to reflect something deep and solemn.

“This is your heart, your dream. And I am but the lingering resentment of a failure.”

Resentment, anger, sorrow.

His teeth ground as if biting out blood and fire, freezing Xu Mingsong’s mind—his first thought: what the hell did he go through?

Could this guy really be that unhinged?

“Think of me as the lingering echo in a valley.”

“If my face makes you uncomfortable, I can wear a mask.”

Yan reached out and pulled a mask from the air—a white steel faceplate, sharp and ancient, adorned with golden patterns, emanating an unshakable mysterious aura. Wearing it made one inexplicably shiver.

“Also, there’s one thing you need to know—”

Yan pulled an old-fashioned pocket watch from his pocket, enamel-painted with a floral pattern. Xu Mingsong looked twice, wondering when he ever had such a thing... And where did he learn that trick of pulling a mask from thin air? Special effects way cooler than mine.

Are we really the same person?!

Yan glanced at the watch, then said: “Six hours a day. No leave unless special circumstances.”

“Six hours what?”

As Xu Mingsong spoke, he suddenly remembered—six hours was the amount of sleep he got on school days since entering high school. It fluctuated, usually between six and eight hours, a standard schedule for a high schooler.

He suddenly felt an ominous dread.

He asked in horror, “You appeared here to—”

Yan nodded slightly: “Exactly, to beat you up in your dreams.”

Xu Mingsong felt like he couldn’t breathe.

You won’t give me clues, fine—but you’re going to beat me? For six hours straight?!

Is there any justice? Any law at all?!

“Don’t you like reading web novels? Haven’t you seen protagonists getting special training in their dreams?”

Yan pressed his finger to his chin, his eyes sharpening.

He whispered, “To get stronger—that’s the path you and Ming chose, isn’t it?”

“If you want to get stronger, be ready to endure hardship.”

Xu Mingsong: “Endure hardship and get stronger?”

“Of course not. If you’re willing to endure hardship, you’ll never run out of it.” Yan laughed heartily.

He said with interest: “Don’t you get it? The official demon hunters have their own path, but it’s not for us... You can ask them for monster organs, but that’s just icing on the cake. Since you’ve set foot on the path of demon blood, if you want to get stronger, isn’t the way ahead broad and bright?”

He murmured: “Become a Hunter.”

Yan’s philosophy, Ming’s philosophy.

They both spoke the same truth.

—Get stronger.

—Become a Hunter.

“My job is to teach you to become a qualified Hunter.” He laughed again: “Don’t worry, getting beaten in a dream is at worst just like a mild beating. It’s even part of the cheat code. In the end, you’ll break through and become invincible!”

“You think you’re really writing a novel!” Xu Mingsong ground his teeth. “I have complaints! This is inhumane! Have you considered I need rest?”

“Talking to me about that’s useless. I’m just a cold, ruthless training robot.” Yan shrugged and said: “The sooner you beat me to pieces, the sooner I can peacefully lie in my coffin.”

Xu Mingsong watched as Yan continued.

First, he tossed him a sword, then bent down to pull two expensive-looking large speakers from beneath the water, and somehow produced a phone, starting to play music right in front of him.

Xu Mingsong looked at the sword in his hand, confused: “What else are you doing?”

Yan: “BGM.”

Suddenly, powerful music rose.

Xu Mingsong’s lips twitched involuntarily. This background music was way too cheerful; the repeated “young man!” lines shattered his carefully built-up mood.

Is BGM a form of psychological warfare?

In such a serious moment, if you’re not going with a fiery sword-drawing or explosive battle tune, fine—but why choose such a comical track?!

But this idiot...

Really is him.

“Well then, let’s begin.”

He heard Yan say this.

A sword sheath suddenly appeared at the center of his vision.

It spun and surged forward like a giant arrow launched from a siege crossbow, tearing through the haze and hesitation in his eyes with tremendous force.

SPLAT!!

Just like when he stabbed through the head of that bug.

The sword sheath pierced his forehead right between his eyebrows, entering from the front and bursting out the back of his head!

Pain!

In an instant, a tearing, intense pain surged from deep within his brain!!

It wasn’t a sharp sword piercing through, but the sword sheath violently smashing through, the tearing and blunt force agony all the more excruciating.

Xu Mingsong struggled on the ground for a few seconds; the spark in his eyes gradually faded—he was done for.

He melted away like a candle, merging into the sea below.

Thirty seconds later, Xu Mingsong stood again on the sea surface.

Covering his forehead, heart pounding with fright, he looked toward Yan about fifty meters away.

“Every death, you get thirty seconds to revive, then sixty seconds to rest and recover.”

“My current physical condition is almost the same as yours. I can’t use the arts or spells you haven’t learned yet, so our conditions are basically similar—except for combat instincts, skills, awareness, and such. Those are what I’m here to teach you.”

Yan rubbed his hands and smiled: “Now... rest well. Twenty-one seconds until our delightful lessons begin!”

“Damn it—”

Xu Mingsong glared at the figure opposite, gritting his teeth: “Stop for a moment!”

Yan tilted his head.

He watched Xu Mingsong with amusement, asking: “You’re begging already after just one death?”

Who the hell would beg themselves for mercy!

Xu Mingsong clenched his molars: “Change the BGM!!”

“Alright! I like your spirit!” Yan gave him a thumbs-up.

Suddenly, a hidden nature beneath his demeanor surfaced. Like a comedic waiter, he grinned and asked: “Say it loud! What BGM do you want?”

Xu Mingsong shouted as if venting: “Bury The Light!!”

Yan was overjoyed: “Alright! You’ve got guts, kid!”

He snapped his fingers.

Snap—a crisp sound, like thunder in the dark.

The BGM instantly surged with intensity!

Xu Mingsong’s expression hardened. He drew the sword Yan had thrown him.

Breathing!

Feeling his heart beat!

That instinct from his demon blood surged, weapon control flowing naturally!

When the time came, Xu Mingsong’s eyes shot wide open. Accompanied by the swelling music, he swung down fiercely. The masked youth met the strike, and like two similar beasts, they collided with a sudden clash!

Sparks flew from the clashing blades!

“I am the storm that is approaching!!”

Amid the roar,

Hands were severed, blood loss fatal.

The abdomen was sliced through, the body cut in half.

Today,

Xu Mingsong’s head felt weightless.

He fell backward, this time not dead outright, but his chest looked like it had been smashed through by a battering ram, a bloody, mangled wound gaping.

Yan’s sword struck down sharply, embedding beside his cheek, piercing the sea below.

A strange light from somewhere illuminated the masked figure, casting his shadow fully over Xu Mingsong. Standing with sword in hand, the mask completely obscured all expression, making him look like a ruthless king forged from blood and steel.

Yan commanded: “Stand up.”

Yan commanded again: “You shouldn’t fall here. Get up.”

Easy for you to say!

When I was your age, you were still cramming for five years of exams and three years of practice tests!

Xu Mingsong bled from his mouth, forcing a smile, managing to say through clenched teeth:

“Hmph, can we make peace?”

...

When Xu Mingsong finally awoke from that illusion, it was already daytime outside.

A few weak rays of light squeezed through the closed curtains, barely outlining tiny dust particles in the air. What should have been a vibrant morning was nearly pitch-black, the whole room cloaked in gloom, evoking an inexplicable oppression.

He turned his head, and Ming tossed aside her books, jumping down from the bedside table. She hurried over, frowning with concern as she looked at him.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?”

“Are you kidding? Weren’t you sensing elements last night? You just passed out, couldn’t wake no matter how much I shook you, sleeping like you were dead!”

He was silent for a long time.

Finally, he looked up, struggling to hold back tears.

Regretfully, he said: “Ming, tell me, can one year turn an ordinary high school student into the world’s strongest?”

Ming froze, her cat paw reaching to his forehead: “...You don’t have a fever, do you?”

“If you were next door at the magical girl studio, I’d know a story about a fourteen-year-old junior high girl who took a month to become the strongest in the universe. Want to hear it?”

Yeah, just think about it.

From now until August next year, roughly one year, right?

How did that guy climb from a nobody like me to that height?

Xu Mingsong thought, sinking into self-isolation.

He ground his teeth and said, “Why is that bastard so strong?”

The boy, who had been tortured in various ways all night, grabbed a pillow beside him and curled up in bed, hiding from the world.

He lamented: “He’s not human...”