"Not every memory within me... belongs to me.
And not every emotion I've ever felt... is truly my own."
Cold.
That was the first sensation when Lin Mo awoke.
He wasn't lying down, nor standing. Instead, he floated in a distorted, dark space, where fragmented ribbons of memory drifted like falling stars, reflecting unfamiliar yet strangely familiar lives.
Where was he?
A memory flashed before his eyes.
A young woman in red knelt amidst a rain of blood, screaming in despair:
"You promised to return... why did you forget me?"
Before her was a man undergoing Dao transformation, his body dissolving into nothingness, leaving only eyes that had once looked at her with the most profound affection – now empty, foreign, as if they had never known her.
It wasn't his memory.
But why did his heart ache so much?
Another fragment.
A white-haired old man, his body pierced by shackles, impaled amidst a mountain of blood. At his feet, his descendants knelt in reverence, no one crying, no one calling.
Only the wind carried his mournful voice:
"Did I live wrongly... or did heaven err first?"
Lin Mo frowned.
Fragments of memories not his own were flooding into his mind, into his blood, into every spiritual meridian.
"Where... is this?"
Suddenly, a faint voice echoed.
A female voice, as if from very far away, resonated in his head:
"You have entered Oblivion Valley.
This is where betrayed memories, forgotten affections, and unspoken hatreds are preserved."
"If you can overcome this place... you will understand: a Dao without emotion is also a type of sin."
He felt his body light, as if non-existent, but his heart grew heavier with each passing moment. The more memories drifted by, the more foreign emotions crept deep into his mind.
A sharp pang of pain struck him.
In a flash, he saw himself as a youth again – thin, silently kneeling before the Lin family's main hall, blood soaking the ground.
Beside him was a white shadow – the woman who once walked by his side, holding his hand for the first time when he fell.
He didn't know who she was. Couldn't clearly remember her face. But deep within his soul, a faint, gentle light still lingered.
A gray-silver ray of light flashed in mid-air.
The strange voice resonated again:
"Heart Mark Guiding Dao – first layer, open."
A Dao script, like ash, flew from memory, piercing into his chest.
Memories merged with blood.
At that very moment, a red-clad woman appeared from afar, stepping forward, her eyes bloodshot, filled with bitter hatred, yet her face was as expressionless as stone.
She looked directly at Lin Mo.
"You... are the successor of the rebellious bloodline.
If you wish to escape this place, you must answer one question."
"When you love someone, but that person forgets you...
Do you kill them?"
Lin Mo was silent for a long time.
Memories surrounded him. Foreign emotions surged.
He felt he had never loved... but also not entirely never. Someone... was still standing behind him, never having turned back.
"I don't know who I once loved...
But I know one thing – the one who forgets me... can live.
The one who forced me to forget – must die."