Actually, Chen Changan's guess wasn't wrong—but it wasn't entirely right either. It was simply incomplete.
After Bai Li left the Zhulong Secret Realm, her memories indeed began to return.
But her cultivation wasn't sufficient, and she had no external assistance. The recovery of her memories was like a painting torn in half—the memories from within the Zhulong Secret Realm and those from the lower realm intertwined, leaving her in a state of chaos that felt both familiar and strange.
She remembered the nine-tailed fox clan of Qingqiu, remembered the fox-tail flowers swaying across entire mountainsides in the wind, remembered the solemn faces of the clan elders—but she couldn't recall the specific directions. She remembered she had once been a high-ranking demon princess, remembered the demons who bowed before her in submission, yet she couldn't let go of every detail from the Zhulong Secret Realm.
This contradiction left her in a daze all day long, often standing at the peak of some mountain in the Spirit Realm, staring blankly into the distance.
Her maid Qing Dai was in the same state. The two would often sit in silence, each lost in their own chaotic fragments of memory.
Qing Dai would suddenly speak of the demon clan's past, only to ask blankly the next second: "Princess, why are we here?"
Fortunately, her cultivation had recovered by half.
Though not at her peak, it was enough to protect herself in the Spirit Realm.
And so, taking Qing Dai with her, she embarked on a long journey, searching the vast Spirit Realm for her dream home—Qingqiu.
That search lasted a thousand years.
She walked through the deserts of the Eastern Wasteland, feeling the temperature of every grain of sand in the swirling dust, hoping to catch even a trace of familiar scent.
She crossed the waves of the Western Sea, searching for possible islands amid the tempestuous waters.
She trekked through the dense forests of the Southern Ridge, weaving between ancient trees that reached toward the sky.
She climbed the snow-capped peaks of the Northern Plains, gazing into the distance through biting winds, hoping for a flash of insight.
She even accidentally discovered a remarkable fact—the entire continent was held up by a massive beast swimming through the boundless ocean.
Everywhere she went, she carefully sensed her surroundings, hoping to find even a trace of Qingqiu's presence.
Qing Dai often urged her to rest, but she would only shake her head and continue her journey.
Yet after a thousand years, she still found nothing. They had walked every corner of the Spirit Realm, asked every demon they encountered—but no one knew where Qingqiu was.
Sometimes she would suddenly stop in a certain place, feeling it was familiar, only to investigate and discover it was merely an illusion.
Gradually, Bai Li began to doubt whether Qingqiu truly existed.
Or perhaps it was just a hallucination born from her disordered memories? This thought kept her awake at night. She would startle awake from dreams, unable to distinguish which memories were real and which were imaginary.
...
However, her journey wasn't entirely without gain.
The Spirit Realm was vast. Though demons were numerous, most had only recently gained sentience and remained ignorant.
Bai Li would watch these newly transformed little demons clumsily imitating human walking, or causing amusing mishaps because they couldn't control their demon power—and in her daze, it was like seeing her former self.
Some of these little demons still retained their beast ears and tails. Some couldn't even maintain a stable human form, occasionally revealing features of their true shape.
And so she began to teach them. At first it was just a few lost little demons she encountered by chance, and she offered a few pointers.
Word spread, and more and more demons came seeking her out. She taught them how to breathe and absorb spiritual energy, how to gather moonlight during the full moon. She taught them how to stabilize their transformations and keep their demon power from leaking. She taught them to distinguish between spiritual herbs and poisonous plants, how to find cultivation resources deep in the mountains. She even taught them to read and write, explained the rules of the human world—so they wouldn't bring trouble upon themselves when entering human towns.
Gradually, her story spread throughout the Spirit Realm. Demons respectfully called her "First Teacher"—not "Master," but "First Teacher," meaning the first to open a path for demon-kind.
Her deeds were woven into songs, passed down among the demons. Some places even erected statues of her—though she always found this alternately amusing and exasperating, and had them taken down.
She didn't care for such empty fame. But every time she saw those little demons, clumsy yet earnest, warmth would well up in her heart.
Watching them grow from ignorant and confused to gradually awakened, from stumbling to confidently controlling their demon power, she felt a strange sense of comfort.
Perhaps she wasn't really teaching them—perhaps she was making amends for the missing pieces of her own memory, those fragments she should have remembered but could never quite assemble.
A thousand years was a long time. Even for a demon, it was exhausting.
Qing Dai often urged her to settle down somewhere, but she would always say: let's look a bit more, maybe the next place will be Qingqiu.
Until one day, standing at the edge of a cliff gazing at the sea of clouds, she suddenly realized she hadn't truly experienced the present moment in a very long time.
She was always rushing, always searching, but ignoring the scenery along the way.
...
In the end, she chose to live in seclusion in a remote mountain far from human habitation. There was a clear stream, its bed paved with colorful pebbles. There was a dense ancient forest where trees towered into the clouds, their canopies often housing spirit birds. There was a valley full of wildflowers—when the breeze passed through, petals fell like rain.
Occasionally a few newly transformed little demons would wander into this place, and she would do as she always had: take them in and teach them cultivation and knowledge.
Qing Dai finally relaxed, and began earnestly tending to this temporary home.
One day, the spring light was beautiful, and the stream babbled gently.
She was sitting on a green stone by the stream, explaining to several little demons how to stabilize their demon cores. These little demons had only recently transformed—some still had fuzzy ears, others trailed long tails behind them. All of them watched her with wide, round eyes, listening intently.
"When your demon core is unstable, you mustn't force a breakthrough, or you risk falling into qi deviation." She gathered a thread of spiritual light at her fingertip and gently touched the forehead of the little demon at the front. "Like this—first steady your mind, then slowly guide the spiritual energy..."
The spiritual light sank into the little demon's brow, and the latter immediately showed an expression of sudden understanding.
The little demons listened seriously, their tails swaying back and forth, their eyes full of worship.
Sunlight filtered through gaps in the leaves, casting dappled shadows across them. A breeze passed through, carrying the fragrance of wildflowers. This moment was so peaceful, as if time itself had slowed its pace.
Bai Li smiled slightly, about to continue, when suddenly—
"Found you."
A voice so familiar it stopped her heart rang out without warning beside her ear.
She had heard this voice countless times in her dreams. Every time she woke, she was left empty and lost.
Her body reacted before her mind could. She froze completely, even her breathing suspended.
She looked up sharply, pupils contracting—but before she could see clearly, the space before her suddenly warped!
The stream, the ancient forest, the surprised expressions of the little demons—everything rippled like a reflection in water. She reached out instinctively, trying to grasp something, but caught only emptiness.
The next instant, she stood in an ordinary wooden house.
The house was simple, yet clean and tidy. Sunlight poured through the windows, illuminating dust motes floating in the air.
By the window sat a pot containing an unknown spirit flower, its pale purple blossoms in full bloom.
In the corner was a wooden table, scattered with several books and some strange objects. On the floor, the shadow of the window lattice formed dappled patterns.
Everything here was unfamiliar, yet so familiar it made her want to weep. Some deeply buried emotion surged in her heart, making her eyes grow hot.
She stood there in a daze. In her mind, countless shattered memories flooded back like a tide—
The figure reaching out to her in the mist of the Zhulong Secret Realm. The nine-tailed fox clan of Qingqiu. The family she had forgotten for so long. Every detail from the lower realm, those ordinary yet warm daily moments...
Everything came back to her.
The fragments of memory finally assembled into a complete whole. Those chaotic, blurry pieces suddenly became clear.
Her lips trembled. Her eyes instantly grew wet.
Through her blurred vision, she saw Chen Changan standing before her.
"Wu... waaah—"
The next second, she couldn't hold back any longer. She threw herself into Chen Changan's arms and began to sob uncontrollably.
Tears poured out uncontrollably, soaking the front of his robe.
Her fingers clutched tightly at his sleeve, as if afraid he might disappear again.
All the grievance, all the confusion, all the loneliness—everything erupted in this moment.
"You... why did you take so long!" She choked out the words, her voice full of grievance. "I waited for so long... so long..."
These words held a thousand years of waiting, a thousand years of searching, a thousand years of loneliness.
Chen Changan said nothing. He only gently patted her back, letting her cry in his arms like a child.
His movements were soft, yet they gave Bai Li a sense of peace she had never known.
In this moment, she had finally found her true home.
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