Tome of Troubled Times-Chapter 920: You of My Dream

Everyone assumed that Ye Wuming had taken Zhao Changhe to the so-called Zhao Family Village, a secret place known only to the two of them.

In truth, she had not.

No matter the method used for traversal, the basic principle was the same: the farther the destination, the greater the toll. At a time like this, Ye Wuming would not waste energy on a round trip all the way to Earth. If her strength was depleted and she could not beat him, then what?

Their hands clasped tightly, and their hearts aligned. With perfect synchronicity, they activated their divine arts.

In the blink of an eye, they appeared in a desolate wilderness under a dark and moonless sky, where corpses littered the ground and discarded weapons lay scattered like fallen leaves.

Zhao Changhe stared blankly at the scene, wordless for a long while.

This was the place from his dream.

A chaotic war had once raged here, countless factions clashed, and the dead piled high. In that dream, he had stood amidst the carnage, unable to tell friend from foe, grabbing whatever weapon lay nearest to fend off attacks from all sides.

He had chosen a broad saber back then as its sweeping arcs kept enemies at bay with sheer force. That connection to the broad saber had lasted ever since. Now, Dragon Bird trembled with excitement in his hand, its edge still stained with the blood drawn from Luo Chuan’s neck. The blood of the Other Shore soaked its edge, imbuing it with a faint, divine glow.

The years passed, but the setting remained unchanged. The scent of the woman behind him was still as intoxicating as ever.

Of course, this scene was not real. Back then, it had been a dream. Ye Wuming had invaded his spiritual sea and constructed this battlefield within it. The so-called “countless factions” were merely manifestations of various entry-level martial paths, designed to assess the chosen one’s innate compatibility with different disciplines, as well as their combat instincts and will.

What seemed a simple trial had eliminated all but one in ten thousand. Natural talent was rare indeed, but resolve was even rarer.

Every type of weapon had been scattered across the field to test the candidate’s fate and martial arts intuition. It was like letting a child grab an object to predict their future. Zhao Changhe had chosen the most direct and brutal path, opting to use strength to crush all before him. He was bold, unrelenting, and fierce.

However, such a style left his back exposed. Ye Wuming had backstabbed him countless times in that dream—not to harm him, but to remind him that this way of fighting would not suffice.

And yet, that was true to his nature. He was too righteous and too loyal. If he was ever betrayed, his entire world might collapse.

But luck had always been on his side. From beginning to end, betrayal had never touched him. Or perhaps it was more than luck, perhaps it was because he treated others with sincerity. And so, friends flocked to him, beauties filled his path, and in the end, he bore the burden of the three realms and brought a war that spanned two eras to its close.

Although it had been Ye Wuming who constructed this dream trial, she had not bothered with setting details—whether wilderness or city, whether day or night. All of it stemmed from Zhao Changhe’s own dreamscape. Whatever he dreamed, the illusion took that form.

Back then, Ye Wuming lacked the ability to manifest such illusions into tangible reality. Only now could she barely manage it. But even now, she needed Zhao Changhe’s cooperation—his memories, his own dreamscape—to recreate it fully.

Together, they brought this small space into existence. It was a tiny act of creation.

Watching Zhao Changhe turn and observe the familiar battlefield, Ye Wuming sighed softly.

He had just asked her, “Was there ever some other understanding between us?” Well, what did he call this? Without a single word exchanged, they had created a pocket world together, this battlefield of beginnings. Even Ye Wuming did not know when such synchronicity between them had begun.

But clearly, this was their true place of first encounter. The origin of their entanglement.

Zhao Changhe kept his back to her. He was silent for a long time before finally asking in a quiet voice, “Why did you choose university students back then? Wouldn’t it have made more sense to recruit from the military?”

Ye Wuming replied, “Youngsters are more malleable. But when I chose younger ones, I was never satisfied with the results. You were the first university student I chose.”

Zhao Changhe suddenly smiled. “Would you call that fate?”

Ye Wuming answered, calm yet certain, “Of course it is.”

At last, Zhao Changhe turned to face her. Ye Wuming met his gaze, composed and unwavering.

There was no reflection of Zhao Changhe in the depths of her eyes.

Zhao Changhe’s gaze flickered slightly before he finally raised his broad saber. “My so-called injuries have already healed. My body recovers quickly by nature, and Chichi has been quietly treating me this whole time.”

Ye Wuming said, “Why drop the act now? Feigning weakness to lure the enemy in before striking is one of your signature tricks. You were using it just a moment ago.”

Zhao Changhe replied, “In the jianghu, victory is all that matters. Any method that keeps you alive is fair game. Even the Tome of Troubled Times agrees, doesn’t it?”

Ye Wuming said nothing.

Zhao Changhe gave a faint smile. “But between you and me, it’s different.”

Expressionless, Ye Wuming asked, “What’s so different between us?”

Zhao Changhe chuckled. “Let’s just say that if I caught someone using tricks, I wouldn’t let them go so easily.”

Ye Wuming’s heart skipped a beat, her cheeks flushing.

Being pinned beneath him and being groped and kissed all over had not made her feel half as embarrassed as being captured twice just now. Earlier, she could not move, and she had plenty of excuses to convince herself it did not count. Even if she had held back, even if he had help, being caught was being caught. If they were truly enemies, she would already be a prisoner.

And prisoners... were at their captors’ mercy.

Lost in thought, she was suddenly jolted back by the roar of the wind. Zhao Changhe was already swinging his broad saber in a wide, ferocious arc. “Focus... There’s no one else here. It’s just you and me.”

It was just the two of them. There were no witnesses, and no excuses to be had. If she lost here, there would be nothing to fall back on.

Clang!

Ye Wuming snapped out of her thoughts and, from who knew where, produced a dagger to deflect the blow with a slanted parry.

A dagger against a broadsword—she parried it cleanly, but there was no way she could just shake off that tremendous power.

A strange gleam flashed in Zhao Changhe’s eyes. He suppressed the urge to ask where that dagger had come from. With Dragon Bird in hand, he unleashed a flurry of strikes.

Ye Wuming flipped her grip on the dagger, weaving her way through the flurry of strikes like a ghost, her movements ethereal and elusive.

If anyone had been watching from the sidelines, they would have seen neither blades nor figures; they could have only heard the endless clash of metal against metal, ringing like steel beads falling on a steel plate.

Neither used celestial forces, karma, nor time or space. They used only raw strength, pure speed, and martial arts.

Because this was where it had all begun, and it was only right for it to end here.

Zhao Changhe had always seen Ye Wuming as a mystical, unknowable force. But at this moment, stripped of divine powers, he realized that even in the realm of martial arts alone, she was among the most formidable he had ever encountered. She was the spirit of the Heavenly Tome. Everything it had taught him had come from her slow, methodical instruction.

Everything he knew, she knew.

Every simulation he had trained in within that dreamlike VR world of the tome had been leading up to this.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Saber clashed against dagger tens of thousands of times.

Zhao Changhe swung his saber in a wide horizontal arc. Ye Wuming soared into the air, her jade-like foot tapping lightly against the flat of the saber. She was truly graceful beyond words.

Inside the saber, the twin-pigtailed girl felt like her head had been stepped on. Furious, she reached out from within to grab Ye Wuming’s ankle, only to snatch at thin air.

Even Zhao Changhe’s keen eyes lost track of her for a moment. She was just too fast. No matter how agile Dragon Bird was, its sheer physical nature meant it could never match the nimbleness of a dagger. The lag in its swing was beginning to show.

However, that same nature also meant that where dexterity failed, brute force prevailed. While Ye Wuming had to weave and dance and deflect, all Zhao Changhe had to do... was cleave.

A gust of wind surged from the left. Zhao Changhe bellowed and swept Dragon Bird across in a brutal arc. Violent saber qi tore through the air with the force to crush an entire army.

Whatever tricks that damned witch was playing, she would have no choice but to yield to this strike.

But just as his saber came sweeping in, the incoming gust vanished. It was replaced by the faint fragrance of perfume drifting from the right.

The force of his slash carried his body into a full leftward rotation, leaving his right flank wide open. Something sharp brushed the air at his right ribs. Despite it not even touching him yet, goosebumps were already rising across his skin.

How familiar.

The same thought rose in both their minds at once. It was as if this entire duel had been built for this single moment.

Zhao Changhe’s sweeping saber abruptly halted mid-arc and, with a torque of his waist, reversed into a backhanded slash.

It was a textbook turning strike. This was the very first move he had learned after transmigrating. The saber did not need full power; the control was there, brimming with reserves.

In that instant, countless thoughts flickered through Ye Wuming’s mind.

Of course she knew he would counter with a backhanded slash. It was the most basic reactive move. It was merely par for the course. The standard counter would be to pre-calculate his timing, shift position again, and gradually pull this reckless brute of a saber wielder off-balance until she gained the upper hand.

But there was another choice, one that was riskier.

The counterattack would be a beat slower than a direct blow. If she dared, she could thrust the dagger deep into his side before the saber reached her, and then slip away with flair, recreating the scene from so long ago.

Logically, with the current strength Zhao Changhe wielded, the safe play should have naturally been what she resorted to. But at this moment, Ye Wuming was overwhelmed by a powerful impulse.

You want to resolve old karma?

Then I’ll make you lose the same way you did back then.

It was only then that she would regain the psychological high ground and erase every humiliation she had endured these past months.

Her body moved faster than thought. The dagger thrust straight into Zhao Changhe’s right side, just below the ribs.

At the same moment, the broad saber closed in, and it was now only a few cun from her neck.

This time, Ye Wuming did not hold back. The moment her dagger landed, she intended to vanish, leaving that gap of mere cun insurmountable for the saber. Victory would be hers.

But the moment her dagger pierced his side, her heart gave a sudden lurch.

Zhao Changhe did not retreat or dodge. Instead, he surged forward, crashing into her like a battering ram. The dagger buried itself to the hilt, blood spraying in arcs, but the collision threw her off-balance, slamming her backward.

The impact shattered her planned escape. Zhao Changhe had not pulled his strike. The broad saber’s arc carried through, and though she staggered back, the length of the blade still brought its edge flush against the side of her neck.

Silence fell over the field.

Ye Wuming stared at Zhao Changhe’s gushing wound, then at the saber now pressed against her throat. Her mind blanked.

He had known she would take the risky route. He had not gone for the safe, reactive slash. Instead, he had baited her, offering up a fatal opening, betting she would not be able to resist.

He had rammed into her on purpose, taking the hit just to break her rhythm and press Dragon Bird to her neck.

If one had to call the outcome...

Technically, she struck first. And at their level, there were no longer any so-called vital points. Her energy had already begun to flood his body, and it could naturally kill him.

But the same applied to her. He could decapitate her in that same breath. It would be mutual destruction.

Of course, neither of them would go that far. She would not trigger the internal blast, and he would not push the saber through her throat. What remained was an image: one wounded, one held at the tip of a saber.

If judged by an outsider, she would likely be deemed the loser.

But more subtly, even within her own heart, the saber at her throat seemed to declare something undeniable.

Every move he had made had one message: I want you.

And this final strike said it all: I qualify.

“I never thought I could truly beat you. You’re not someone who can be beaten in a straight duel. Not even Luo Chuan could do that,” Zhao Changhe said slowly, after the long silence. “Two captures, two releases, I shook your will, and in turn, my momentum reached its peak. The tide shifted. Everyone believes that I’m full of confidence, and even you might believe that right now, but I still don’t think I can truly defeat you.”

Ye Wuming said nothing. She simply stared at him in silence.

Zhao Changhe’s voice dropped lower as he continued, “All I ever wanted... was to recreate this moment. When you thought you had me, yet my saber finds itself right at your neck, I just want to ask you one thing...”

He leaned in slightly.

“...What do you think of me now?”

Ye Wuming still didn’t speak.

Zhao Changhe slowly lowered Dragon Bird and stepped forward.

Ye Wuming instinctively took half a step back, but he was still right there, looming over her.

His broad frame was like a mountain before her. She had to tilt her head slightly to meet his gaze. For a fleeting second, she felt... small.

Zhao Changhe drove Dragon Bird into the earth with a heavy thud.

“You spent two eras teaching Luo Chuan the one truth that those bound by the Heavenly Dao will one day rise up and overturn it. I stand here before you after only thirty-three years to tell you the very same thing.”

At last, Ye Wuming spoke. “So you want me to admit that I was wrong?”

“There’s no point,” Zhao Changhe replied as he reached out and gently lifted her chin. Ye Wuming looked up at him without resisting.

He gazed into her eyes and said slowly, “You once claimed you were cold as the night, that your eyes would never hold anyone. But I wonder about that. My body once carried your eyes, so now... do your eyes carry my image?”

Her limpid pupils shimmered faintly, and Zhao Changhe’s face reflected clearly in their depths.

“It looks like they do,” he murmured with a soft smile. Then he gestured around them. “You and I created this place together, and our minds were perfectly aligned. Here, in this space... do you still think it was merely to complete the karmic thread of our beginning? To fulfill a dream I once had?”

Ye Wuming said, “Was it not?”

“Well, it’s not just that. You said before that I ought to give you a betrothal gift... I’ve been thinking about it over and over, but I still don’t know what to give. You possess the three realms. You’ve explored the myriad realms, and there’s practically nothing you don’t already have. So, what could I possibly offer you that holds meaning? Defeating Luo Chuan? That doesn’t count. He was our shared enemy. Jiuyou’s grudge against him ran deeper than everybody else’s, so how could I claim that as a gift meant for you?”

Ye Wuming opened her mouth to reply but said nothing.

At this point, denying she had written the letter would mean nothing.

“I thought about it, and I think this place will do.” Zhao Changhe gestured around them again. “This was my dream, and you barged into it without asking. Now I’ve turned that dream into reality, and you’ve stepped out of it to stand beside me. Together, we shaped this world. A dreamscape that belongs to the two of us. Wouldn’t that count as a worthy betrothal gift?”

Ye Wuming’s heartbeat quickened.

All those domineering lines, all those corny declarations, none of them held a candle to this.

Zhao Changhe continued, “Since you’re not saying anything, I’ll take that as a yes.”

Ye Wuming wanted to say something, but the words would not come out of her mouth. Ever since Dragon Bird was pressed to her throat, her thoughts had been in complete disarray.

That one saber had justified all his previous liberties and laid the formal groundwork for what came next.

After a long silence, she finally said, with a hint of helplessness, “So this was your only theme all along? Can’t we talk about... any other kind of relationship between us?”

Zhao Changhe blinked. “What kind of relationship? Master and disciple?”

If everything in the Heavenly Tome had been guided by her will, then she was indeed the one who had taught him. Even Instructor Sun had not been so hands-on with him.

Ye Wuming tilted her head thoughtfully, then smiled. “Have you never considered... that you’re technically my brother-in-law?”

Zhao Changhe’s expression froze.

Ye Wuming’s smile turned mischievous, almost devilish. “What’s wrong? Are you thinking of stacking us?”

“...Are you seducing me?”

“I wonder what kind of person would take that as seduction.” Ye Wuming turned away, hands clasped behind her back, and began strolling toward the edge of the mountain ridge. “To a normal person, that would sound more like a rejection. What kind of brother-in-law gives a betrothal gift to his sister-in-law?”

Zhao Changhe wrapped his arms around her from behind. “When did I ever say I was normal? Haven’t you heard I’m a notorious bandit?”

Ye Wuming gave a half-hearted struggle. Zhao Changhe winced as pain flared sharply in his side, and he let out a muffled grunt.

Ye Wuming stopped resisting. She stood quietly in his arms, unmoving.

Silence settled over them. No wind stirred this space, and no moon shone overhead.

Their hearts gradually calmed. All their past grudges, desires, and tangled emotions finally came to rest.

Ye Wuming stared out at the horizon, her voice soft and distant. “This world is crude... no wind, no moon. But if you gift me the stars of the heavens, then I’ll accept this place as my betrothal gift.”