A fragment of past memory flashed across his eyes in an instant.
Seeing Bai Yu suddenly knit his brows tightly with an expression of mild pain, Zhou Wang was instantly startled.
“Are you alright?” he asked hastily.
Lost in the suddenly surfacing memory, Bai Yu did not hear Zhou Wang speaking to him.
Startled and not lingering on hesitation, Zhou Wang pressed the call button at the head of the hospital bed to summon a doctor to check on Bai Yu’s condition.
“4408, come here,” Zhou Wang ordered the small robot resting near the charging station.
Hearing the command, 4408’s small eyes flashed brightly as it instantly rebooted from semi-rest mode, sliding over toward the hospital bed.
“Hello, guard,” it greeted, its blue eyes shifting back to Bai Yu. “Bai Yu, is your body acting up again?”
With that, it immediately began running a full-body scan on Bai Yu.
Meanwhile, Bai Yu was gradually processing the suddenly emerging memory.
It was set within an underground palace, magnificent, mysterious, and brightly lit.
The interior architecture followed a black-and-white Baroque style, featuring intricate patterns, exquisite sculptures, and a solemn, majestic aura.
Atop the altar stood a massive, exquisite relief carving of a Canglong with its four claws outstretched, suspended in mid-air. Its red eyes were sharp and spirited, and its black scales looked vividly lifelike, making it seem as though a genuine dragon were truly hovering there, looking down upon all living beings from above.
Tall arches separated the altar from the place of worship. Below the steps lay polished black floor tiles reflecting the golden-patterned white dome. On both sides of the palace stood solemn, sacred humanoid sculptures, backed by brilliantly colored enamel glass.
The entire palace was vast, immense, radiating a dazzling play of light, sacred and authoritative.
In the memory, the entire hall was adorned with vibrant flowers of various colors, emitting a rich fragrance. White carpets covered the shining floor, flanked by colorful floral bouquets.
An elder draped in a white robe embroidered with gold threads stood atop the altar, holding a metal scepter embedded with a red gemstone. Facing the Canglong sculpture, he chanted in a language belonging to no known tongue. Below him stood a group of followers draped in black cloaks, lined up neatly along both sides of the white carpet, bowing respectfully and listening quietly with lowered heads as the elder offered his solemn and dignified prayers.
The black-and-white architecture contrasted sharply with the colorful flowers, creating a bizarre yet solemn atmosphere.
Before long, the elder lit the pillars standing before the Canglong sculpture. Golden flames leaped upward, burning fiercely.
At that moment, the bell tolled.
The neatly aligned followers turned to face the white carpet.
The entire hall fell into a profound silence.
Just then, faint sounds emerged as someone stepped onto the soft carpet, walking at a steady pace toward the altar.
It was a young boy of about seven years old, with white hair and a white tunic, his forehead painted with a cinnabar mark shaped like a teardrop. His skin was so pale it was nearly translucent, and his deep, dark eyes were fathomless.
He walked unhurriedly across nearly a hundred meters of carpet until he reached the altar. The elder stepped down the steps personally to welcome him up, then handed him a dagger embedded with a red gemstone.
Taking the knife, the boy gazed deeply at the Canglong sculpture, extended his left hand, aimed the blade at his palm, and sliced down swiftly.
Without changing expression, bright red blood immediately welled up.
A miraculous event occurred at that moment, a sudden gust of wind began to swirl around the previously calm sculpture. The boy’s white hair fluttered, and the wind swiftly swept away the blood from his palm, gathering it into a ball of blood that fell with a soft pat onto the Canglong’s forehead, slowly melting into the sculpture.
The wind stopped, and the wound on the boy’s palm vanished without a trace.
The elder chanted another passage in an unknown tongue, which Bai Yu could magically understand.
[The sacred marriage is decreed. He shall be sacrificed to the Dragon Lord, and from this day forth, shall become the Canglong’s spouse. May the Dragon Lord perform the final ritual, Dragon Possession.]
As the words fell, wind began to stir around the boy’s body once more. Then, a brilliant light flashed across him, making the cinnabar mark on his forehead burn even more vibrantly red.
His expression remained as calm as ever, entirely unlike that of a seven-year-old child, it seemed heavy with time, and his pair of dark eyes remained deep and unfathomable.
As the light scattered, the buttons of his white tunic were undone by the wind, sliding down to the ground. The boy’s pale, frail upper body was exposed, and his smooth, fair back was now engraved with silver, intricate dragon scale patterns.
The memory abruptly cut off right there.
Bai Yu was left in a state of utter shock.
He could say with absolute certainty that the young boy in his memory was none other than himself.
That white hair, features nearly identical to his current appearance, and the silver dragon scale patterns on his back all bore testament to the fact that this sacrificed boy was indeed him.
Could it be that he had truly lost his memories?
Who was he sacrificed to, according to the book? It turned out he was sacrificed to the Dragon Lord of the Taboo Cult?
And he had even become this Dragon Lord’s spouse.
The silver dragon scale patterns on his back originated from this as well.
However, the memory only contained the scene of the sacrifice, the reason for the sacrifice and why he had lost this memory remained completely unknown.
Even the official eradication of the Taboo Cult back then remained a mystery.
Bai Yu found it utterly baffling that he actually had ties to the Taboo Cult.
“Bai Yu? Bai Yu? 4408 is calling you, can you hear me? Why are you zoning out?” After finishing the scan, 4408 noticed Bai Yu was still lost in a daze and spoke up to remind him again.
The other’s complexion had grown even paler, and violent emotional fluctuations surfaced in his previously calm, rippleless eyes. Zhou Wang, standing nearby, watched with growing alarm.
Anyone in the research team could afford to have an accident, but definitely not Bai Yu.
Hearing 4408’s persistent calls, Bai Yu snapped back from his shock, lifted his gaze to scan the blue-eyed robot, and then shifted his eyes to Zhou Wang, who was staring at him with worried eyes.
“I’m fine,” he replied indifferently, quickly pulling his emotions back under control.
Yet internally, he couldn’t help muttering to himself, at the prime age of twenty-three and still single since birth, he had somehow become someone else’s spouse at a very young age, and the spouse of a sculpture at that. Was that appropriate? Was it really appropriate?
Religion was truly something that harmed people endlessly!
At that moment, a figure inadvertently surfaced in his mind once again, black hair, red pupils, a handsome face.
It was that powerful mysterious man who constantly appeared in his dreams and needed him to be saved.
Recalling that portion of his memories, he couldn’t help making a connection, “In my dreams, I always search for a fragment of past memory, in the dream, there is a powerful black-haired figure” was the subject of that description this very powerful mysterious man?
Could this man actually exist in reality?
He felt a sense of wonder, recalling the dream he had experienced right before waking up, it had felt so real, impossibly real.
Yet he also found something strange, his reaction to the Taboo Cult seemed rather mild, as if this religion was nothing special to him, lacking anything that exceeded his control.
Yet clearly, he knew nothing at all about this mysterious religion.
Seeing Bai Yu return to his usual calm demeanor, Zhou Wang not only failed to relax, but grew even more anxious.
“I’ve already called a doctor over to give you a thorough checkup,” he spoke urgently.
Bai Yu merely lifted his gaze to look at him without saying much.
At this point, 4408 chimed in, “Bai Yu, your brainwaves are very active, oh. Remember not to overexert your brain, 4408 will worry about you.”
This remark surprised Zhou Wang, who couldn’t help asking Bai Yu, “What’s going on?”
Bai Yu pressed his lips together and said simply, “Nothing.”
Seeing him refuse to say anything, Zhou Wang let out a sigh, said nothing more, and simply waited quietly for the doctor to arrive.
Bai Yu lowered his head in silence, wondering when he would be able to recover that crucial piece of lost memory.
That missing memory surely held many secrets regarding the Taboo Cult. He was also curious why he had been chosen by the Taboo Cult as a sacrifice to their Dragon Lord, and why he had become his spouse.
If he had gotten married without knowing it, wouldn’t that constitute bigamy? Of course, that was just a joke, it was merely the faith sculpture of a religion, not a real human being.
Still, the events in his memory, the wind stirring up blood and the glowing light burning silver dragon scales onto his back, remained utterly bizarre, as if magical forces existed in this world just like in the ability-based world.
Ever since waking up from the dream ability world, Bai Yu felt his capacity to accept things had grown much stronger, even though connecting it to reality felt as absurd as things could get.
Nonetheless, regarding the Taboo Cult, he felt it was best to actively avoid entangling himself with it. He was now a researcher at the research center, no longer the young boy sacrificed to the Dragon Lord by the Taboo Cult. Religious matters should be deliberately shunned, even if they held intensely captivating mysteries that severely scratched at one’s curiosity.
He had an instinctive intuition that he might eventually get dragged into a vortex of trouble because of the Taboo Cult. Yet given that he could barely keep himself alive right now, he needed to steer clear of this mysterious religious organization even more.
After losing his healthy body, he certainly did not want his thoughts to be manipulated by an inscrutable religion.
That brick-thick book in his possession had to be hidden away securely to prevent anyone from misunderstanding his relationship with the Taboo Cult.
Besides, if he could instantly recover his lost memories, he wouldn’t find himself in such a passive position.
Silence lingered in the ward for two or three minutes before the mechanical prompt signaling the door lock being unlocked sounded from the entrance. The humming noise of the spatial transition air purifier whirred to life once again.
Both individuals and the small robot turned their gazes toward the door. A doctor clad in the same white protective suit walked inside and closed the door behind him, instantly shutting out the humming noise outside and plunging the ward back into quietness.
“Professor Bai, Professor Zhou,” the doctor greeted hastily.
Zhou Wang stared at him with a frown and demanded bluntly, “Why did it take you so long to get here? Weren’t you supposed to be waiting outside the whole time?”
The doctor’s expression flickered with hesitation and evasiveness, filled with difficulty as he wavered, unsure of how to explain.
With just a single glance, Bai Yu read the complex and grief-stricken emotions in the other’s eyes. Something unexpected must have happened to cause the heavily prepared doctor to suddenly delay tending to his condition.
Without pressing further, Bai Yu simply said, “4408 did a rough vital sign scan, and there aren’t any major issues. You go ahead and examine me thoroughly.”
Hearing this, the doctor nodded quickly.
Zhou Wang stopped pressing the issue as well, saying with an anxious and heavy tone, “Examine him carefully. If any new problems arise, you must treat them immediately. His life is of the utmost importance.”
The doctor nodded again without further ado, stepping forward promptly to operate the medical equipment.