The Illusion of Memory

Han Li only slanted a glance to the side, then ignored everything and continued on his way.

But as Han Li moved further down the corridor, the celestial music grew louder and louder. The white cranes that had been dancing earlier flew to both sides of the walkway, following him as they spread their wings and called out.

A moment later, amidst the fairy music, all the cranes twisted and transformed into young maidens dressed in various palace gowns.

Each of these women appeared to be only sixteen or seventeen years old. They were all extraordinarily beautiful, brimming with youthful vitality. They swayed their slender, seemingly boneless waists and smiled flirtatiously at Han Li.

Their bright eyes were filled with affectionate gazes, as if Han Li were the lover they adored most.

At that moment, the music shifted, becoming gentle and lingering, filled with the sensation of romantic trysts under the moonlight, stirring hidden emotions deep in one’s heart.

Han Li’s expression flickered, but he quickly steeled his heart like iron and ignored the soft whispers of the women on either side, his face expressionless.

After walking another few dozen zhang, the sound in his ears suddenly changed again, striking a mournful and sorrowful tone.

The maidens’ expressions shifted accordingly. They stopped their waist-dancing, one by one showing looks of grief as they transformed into boundless, heartbroken figures. They stared at Han Li with devastating sorrow, as if he had suddenly become a heartless betrayer. The sight could not help but stir pity and affection in the heart of any observer.

“Interesting!” Han Li laughed. He actually became quite interested, walking while appreciating the maidens’ mournful expressions as if enjoying a fine show.

Han Li understood clearly: since the Extreme Illusionary Realm was placed after the Ghost Mist and the Ice-Fire Path, it certainly could not consist of only such petty tricks. There must be other methods as well.

Sure enough, seeing that even this failed to make Han Li pause for a moment, the celestial music began to emit a seductive, wanton melody that quickened the heartbeat. At the same time, the women outside flashed with rosy light, instantly aging seven or eight years, transforming into voluptuous, fully-developed, stunningly beautiful matrons.

These peerless beauties all had flushed faces, eyes burning with desire. They continuously made provocative moves, layer by layer removing their light gauze garments, revealing bare, fair bodies. Each one had full breasts and rounded hips, exuding a maddening temptation. The coquettish moans and gasps from their red lips were even harder to resist than the celestial demonic sounds, ceaselessly stirring the hidden desires buried deep in any man’s heart.

Han Li was momentarily stunned, but after the Great Derivative Art flowed lightly through his mind, his expression immediately returned to normal.

Even if a real person were to施展狐媚之术 directly at him, he would not be concerned. Such crude illusions naturally did not enter his eyes.

The seductive matrons on both sides of the corridor began to act even more brazenly. Some pressed their hands to their ample chests, throwing flirtatious glances at Han Li. Some twisted their waists, caressing their own bodies. Others even embraced each other in pairs, beginning to put on a counterfeit display of intimate passion right there in public…

Han Li found the sight dazzling and could not help but marvel silently, but because the Great Derivative Art protected his heart, he simply treated it as a rare encounter and enjoyed the spectacle.

Next, the matrons’ appearances shifted again, transforming into various types of beauties: dignified and proper noblewomen, passionate and fiery seductresses, pure and innocent young girls, cold and proud chaste women. Each had a different charm, a different temperament, as if every peerless beauty in the mortal world was being displayed one by one before him.

Han Li wore a faint smile on his face, but the gaze beneath his eyes was ice-cold, showing not a trace of temptation.

After an hour of steady walking, having thoroughly feasted his eyes, Han Li finally reached the end of the corridor.

A black hall with a flat roof appeared ahead. From the entrance to the walls, it was entirely built from black bricks.

Looking through the wide-open doors, which were over ten zhang tall, the interior was pitch black, not a single glimmer of light, giving off an eerily strange sensation.

Just as Han Li saw the black hall, the wanton music and those seductive women outside the corridor suddenly vanished. Outside, there were still the vast, endless white clouds. Everything had returned to how it was when he first entered the corridor.

Han Li showed no sign of surprise. Instead, he gazed at the black hall with a hint of solemnity, his steps involuntarily slowing.

Before he even approached the black hall, a thick, bloody scent rushed toward him.

Han Li frowned and looked again more carefully.

Only then did he notice that this palace was not entirely pitch black. It was a strange color, a sinister red mixed with black, as if the entire hall had been built from hot blood that had solidified into darkness. It radiated an aura of pure evil.

Han Li stood at the entrance of the hall, arms crossed, lost in thought for a moment.

Although he had never inquired about the detailed circumstances of the Extreme Illusionary Realm, just by looking at this hall, he could guess that it would certainly test negative emotions like fear and dread. For him, this would not be as easy to handle as before.

He himself was well aware of the weaknesses in his own heart.

He was not some fearless hard man, nor was he a wise fool who appeared dull but was shrewd. At best, he was a mortal with a little cleverness and cunning. If he truly saw some unbearable sight, a momentary lapse in judgment could cloud his mind, and that would spell disaster.

It seemed that this time, he would need the help of the Patalocakra bead to get through.

With that thought, Han Li touched the round bead on his wrist, steadied his nerves, and walked into the hall.

Dark. Utterly dark.

The moment he stepped inside the hall, Han Li felt a deeply unpleasant sensation.

He did not know what kind of restriction was set here, but even when he strained his eyes wide, he could only see a distance of about three or four zhang around him. His spiritual sense could not leave his body to explore.

But that alone could be endured. What was truly unsettling was the absolute silence around him—not a single sound, a stillness that made one’s heart shrink with fear.

Han Li involuntarily licked his lips and raised a hand, intending to release a fireball.

But the moment the flame lit, with a puff, it extinguished on its own.

Han Li paused, a little unwilling. He reached out again, taking a moonlight stone from his storage pouch.

Yet as soon as the stone emerged, it flickered once with white light and then rapidly dimmed, losing all its luster, becoming as ordinary as any common rock.

Only then did Han Li understand that the restriction in this hall had the bizarre property of absorbing all kinds of light.

He immediately gave up the idea and continued forward slowly.

But before he had taken more than a few steps, a faint, sobbing sound suddenly reached his ears, coming from far away, intermittent and broken. Judging by the voice, it seemed to be a young woman.

Han Li sneered coldly, ignoring the sound entirely, and kept walking in a fixed direction.

But the sobbing drifted around him, now near, now far, growing even more sorrowful and heart-wrenching, as if it had decided to cling to him.

“Tch!” Annoyed by the sound, Han Li let out a loud shout, shaking the ground slightly with the force.

The crying immediately stopped.

Han Li felt quite satisfied and quickened his pace, wanting to pass through this hall faster.

But before he had gone more than a few feet, the sobbing began again. And with the sound, a white figure appeared not far ahead of him, kneeling on the ground. It seemed to be a woman in mourning garb.

The mournful, pitiful sound came from her mouth.

Strangely enough, although the woman was clearly kneeling quite a distance away, Han Li could still see her clearly at a glance.

Han Li’s face turned cold. He stared icily at this white-clad woman and walked straight toward her without slowing down.

He understood very well: in an environment like this, the more timid and cowardly one was, the easier it was to be ensnared by the hall’s illusions. Retreating was not an option. The best strategy was to face it with an unchanged expression.

By the time this thought crossed his mind, Han Li was only seven or eight zhang away from the white-clad woman.

He was about to shout again, regardless of the consequences, to drive her away. But then he suddenly felt that this woman’s sobbing voice seemed familiar, as if he had heard it somewhere long ago.

Han Li’s heart tightened. He quickly warned himself that this was only an illusion; he must not fall for its seduction.

But as he stared, the figure of the white-clad woman grew more and more familiar. A name seemed to leap up in his mind, ready to burst forth, but he could not quite grasp who she resembled.

Han Li’s steps involuntarily stopped. He frowned slightly as he gazed at the woman before him, watching coldly in silence.

“Fourth Brother!” A timid, soft voice came from the woman.

Hearing this, Han Li’s mind seemed to explode. Blood rushed to his head uncontrollably. He could not help asking:

“Who are you? Could you be…?”

“Fourth Brother, don’t you recognize me? I’m your little sister!” The white-clad woman, who had been keeping her head lowered, gently lifted it, revealing a delicate, heart-wrenchingly familiar face. The familiar features, the small nose, the expressive eyes—they were exactly the same as his little sister’s when he had stolen a glance at her before leaving home. But now, dressed as a married woman, she seemed to carry an extra touch of mature charm.