Chapter 192: The Truth of Reincarnation Begins to Emerge

Shen Yan’s phone screen was cracked like a spiderweb, the green light still flickering. He leaned against the rock wall, his fingers gripping the device so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The wave of decompilation just now had nearly drained all his Mental Power, his head buzzing and his ears filled with the sound of electric currents.

But he didn’t let go.

He knew he couldn’t stop now.

Ye Shi’er stood a few steps away, electric sparks crackling from his left arm, his scythe hanging low, black energy coiling around his entire body. Neither of them moved, the air seeming to freeze.

Shen Yan glanced down at the Terminal. A line of text popped up on the Interface: 【Deep-layer Data unlocked. Load “YH-07” Memory Module?】

He gritted his teeth and tapped “Yes.”

In an instant, a massive stream of information flooded his mind. It wasn’t Images or sounds, but segments of encrypted Code Structure, layered and nested like some ancient Seal Program. He forced his consciousness to hold on, using his Source Code Spiritual Root to parse it bit by bit.

The progress bar slowly crawled upward.

Twenty percent… fifty… eighty…

Suddenly, a label popped up: 【Identity Authentication: Crimson-Eyed Saintess · Moonlight 07 · Demon Clan Orthodox Bloodline · Divine War Era Terminator】.

Shen Yan froze.

Crimson-Eyed Saintess?

Wasn’t that the legendary Demon Clan Princess who self-immolated to Seal the Demon Lord a thousand years ago during the Divine War? Luo Li’s ancestor?

He remembered Yu Xiaotang mentioning it once—after that great war, the entire Demon Clan royal Bloodline was severed, leaving only a fragment of a Spirit Core, its whereabouts unknown.

But now, the name of that fragment lay within Ye Shi’er’s Core Program.

He continued scrolling down and found a Log entry: 【Test Subject B (Ye Shi’er) successfully resonated with the Soul Frequency of “Moonlight 07,” judged as the only compatible Container. Reincarnation sequence Initiation failed. Reason: Host refused fusion.】

Shen Yan’s heart raced.

So Ye Shi’er wasn’t insane.

He was trying to resurrect someone.

A woman who had died over a thousand years ago.

He abruptly looked up at Ye Shi’er. “You knew she was a Reincarnation all along? So you captured all those people, refined Data Puppets, just to find a body that could bring her back?”

Ye Shi’er didn’t answer, but his eyes changed. The frenzied killing intent receded somewhat, replaced by something… almost like a humble Obsession.

“When she died, red rain fell from the sky,” Ye Shi’er finally spoke, his voice hoarse. “I knelt before the pyre, begging them to give her back to me. But they said she was a ‘necessary sacrifice,’ that history needed heroes, not love.”

Shen Yan was stunned.

He suddenly understood.

Everything Ye Shi’er had done wasn’t to destroy the world.

He just didn’t want to lose her again.

Just like Shen Yan himself, who had refactored failed Code countless times—even if no one wanted it, even if it was marked as “scrap”—he had to make it Run.

Because to him, there was no truly useless Code, only Programs that hadn’t yet found the right way to Run.

He took a deep breath and continued sifting through the Data fragments.

Soon, he discovered another hidden Command: 【Parental Protocol Binding: Heavenly Mechanism A, Heavenly Mechanism B—same-origin embryos, shared Spiritual Root template. Activation condition: Twin Resonance.】

Shen Yan’s pupils contracted.

Heavenly Mechanism A was him.

Heavenly Mechanism B was Ye Shi’er.

They were twins born of the same mother, raised by the Celestial Clan as experimental subjects. One successfully activated the Source Code Spiritual Root, becoming the “finished product”; the other failed, branded as “defective” and discarded into the Shadow Erosion Organization as a tool.

But how could this be considered failure?

It was clearly the result of a forced extraction.

His spiritual root remained intact, while Ye Shi’er’s was brutally severed in half, stuffed into another personality framework to control the Puppet Pool and execute “Format” tasks.

To put it plainly, Ye Shi’er was a backup system transformed into a weapon.

Shen Yan looked at the half-mechanical, half-human man before him and suddenly felt his throat tighten.

He had always thought he was an unlucky office worker who had transmigrated into a book, but the truth was—he was the chosen “lucky one,” while the one who truly deserved to live had been discarded like trash by everyone.

“So…” His voice trembled slightly, “You sang that children’s rhyme not to control the puppets.”

Ye Shi’er looked up.

“It was to awaken her.”

The air fell silent.

Deep in the cave, the liquid in the Puppet Pool still churned slowly, glowing with an eerie purple light. The door continued to tremble, as if something was knocking from the inside.

Shen Yan stared at the Terminal, where the final piece of data was loading: 【Final activation attempt of Reincarnation Sequence: Three hundred years ago, the host was a female cultivator from Medicine Valley. Due to refusal to accept past-life memories, the Spirit Core shattered. Current available container: Unlocked.】

In other words, Moonlight 07’s soul was still in the Cycle of Reincarnation, but each time she reincarnated, she resisted awakening, causing her body to collapse.

And Ye Shi’er had waited for a thousand years, rebuilding the System time and again, just to wait for the next suitable container to appear.

Shen Yan suddenly thought of something and froze.

Pei Yue.

Three years ago, she had fallen into a coma for seven days. When she woke up, she said she had dreamed of a woman in red standing in flames, smiling at her.

At the time, everyone dismissed it as nonsense.

But now, looking back…

He didn’t dare to think further.

Just then, another notice popped up on the Terminal: 【High-frequency emotional fluctuations detected. Source: Behind the door of the underground Secret Chamber. Match rate: 98.7%】

Shen Yan snapped his head up.

The door was shaking.

More violently than before.

Ye Shi’er noticed it too, staggering step by step toward the door, unsteady but resolute.

“This time is different,” he whispered. “I have already found the Key to open it.”

Shen Yan realized: “You mean me?”

“The Source Code Spiritual Root is the master control module of the parent System,” Ye Shi’er glanced back at him. “Only you can simultaneously access the ‘Living Database’ and the ‘Deceased Archives.’ You are the bridge, the Interface, the only Terminal that can bring the dead back online.”

Shen Yan sneered: “So your earlier attacks on me were also part of the plan? Deliberately letting me obtain Permission so I could open this door for you?”

“I don’t need to deceive you,” Ye Shi’er shook his head. “I just believe that anyone who writes Code wouldn’t bear to watch a Program forever stuck on the loading Interface.”

Shen Yan fell silent.

He knew the other was right.

He himself often got up in the middle of the night just to fix a small Script with an Error Reporting. Not for rewards, nor for recognition, but simply—not wanting any piece of Logic to die halfway.

He slowly stood up, his legs still weak, but took a step forward.

“I can help you open the door.”

Ye Shi’er’s eyes brightened slightly.

“But I have one condition.”

“Go ahead.”

“If she doesn’t want to return after waking up? If she says ‘don’t disturb my life in this world’? Will you still insist on pulling her out?”

Ye Shi’er froze.

He stood before the door, his back hunched like a mountain about to collapse.

After a long time, he finally spoke, his voice so soft it was almost imperceptible: “I don’t know… but I must try once. Even if she hates me, I need to let her know someone has waited for her for a thousand years.”

Shen Yan watched his back and suddenly felt this scene was incredibly familiar.

Just like every time his submitted Code was rejected, he would still silently revise and upload it again.

Not to win, but simply unwilling to admit defeat.

He raised his hand, pressing his phone against the Secret Chamber door.

The Terminal began scanning, green light seeping through the door cracks.

【Establishing connection…】

【Target identity verification underway…】

【Match successful: Moonlight 07·Spirit Core Signal confirmed…】

【Warning: Container unstable, fusion process may cause Host death.】

Seeing this line of text, Shen Yan paused his finger.

He didn’t shut down the Program.

Instead, he asked softly: “Did you hear that? If she dies, you’ll truly have nothing left.”

Ye Shi’er closed his eyes, a drop of blood sliding from the corner of his eye, mixing with metallic oil as it dripped onto the ground.

“I know,” he said, “but compared to never having possessed, I’d rather choose to lose again.”

The Runes on the door began glowing, shifting from dark red to blazing white.

Shen Yan’s phone emitted a buzzing sound, the Interface popping up with a final Notice: 【Allow soul fusion? Yes/No】

His thumb hovered above the options, unable to press down.

Wind blew in through the cracks, swirling up ashes on the ground.

Ye Shi’er stood before the door, his right hand trembling slightly.

The vibrations inside the door grew increasingly stronger.

Shen Yan suddenly recalled a sentence Yu Xiaotang had once said:

“Some Talisman Spells are drawn not to take effect, but just to tell others—I’ve always been waiting for you.”

(End of Chapter)