Later, Dongjun had to leave Dongtian due to some matters.

Later, I watched his figure disappear into the distance.

And then, there was no more "and then".

I was struck down from the heavens and haven't seen him for twenty years. I wonder if he has changed.

Humans are fickle; they grow old and die every moment. But the celestial realm is neither born nor dies; millions of years have passed, and it remains unchanged. It seems that it will not change. It has only suffered some hardships.

To be honest, I've been by his side for three thousand years. Since he ascended to immortality, I've rarely seen him get injured, except when he encountered Ya Zi and the two of them fought only briefly. Only once, and that was when Fu Xi spilled boiling tea, and he reached out to stop me.

In those short twenty years, I wasn't by his side, and it was precisely when he was often injured that I wasn't there to take care of him. I know he wasn't afraid of pain, but when a wound bleeds and there's no one around, the pain seeps into his heart. I understand that feeling; for at least sixteen of those twenty years, I've been experiencing it myself.

Life is truly bitter.

Dongjun, if you become a demon, what will our three thousand years, our present state be like?

Ah, I'm afraid we won't even have any interaction anymore.

That's fine, it's better than having crossed paths but then being forced to miss each other.

"Miss Ziwan."

I looked away; it was Jimo. He sat down on the grass beside me without any hesitation. In the blink of an eye, even in the north, spring was still chilly, and the tender grass had sprouted.

"Is Miss Ziwan an immortal?"

I nodded slightly.

There was an indelible weariness and sorrow in his eyes, making one feel an irresistible urge to pity him.

"What?" I asked cautiously.

"Immortal, can you bring the dead back to life?" He managed a smile, but it sounded worse than crying.

I turned my head away, not wanting to look at him anymore: "Sorry." Unless Yama, the King of Hell, makes a mistake, ordinary immortals like us have no say in the life and death of mortals. I suddenly became curious. Liao Yan was just a shell, so naturally he wouldn't be listed in the Book of Life and Death, but just how "realistic" was this mortal created by Dongjun? Ji Mo Dongli... did he have a soul?

"Miss Ziwan, could you do me a favor?" His voice was so sorrowful that I couldn't refuse, so I could only nod.

Unexpectedly, he led me to the coffin. It was made of a type of wood that emitted a Buddhist fragrance, and the smell was very calming.

As he pushed open the coffin lid, he lowered his voice, as if afraid of disturbing something, and said, "She never said it when she was alive, but I know that she longed to be an ordinary person. She longed for it for twenty years, until she was in despair, and I couldn't grant her wish. Although it's too late, I want her to be able to leave this world peacefully. Fairy, can you help me... give her the appearance of an ordinary person? I will use all the power of the nation to beg you!"

I looked at the coffin and unconsciously covered my lips.

It turns out that his carrying a coffin during the march was not a display of his resolve.

Lying in this coffin is Liao Yan.

Beneath my sleeve, I clenched my fist tightly, my nails digging into my palm, causing a slight pain. Inside my body, Liao Yan's memories were screaming wildly, almost forcing me to tears.

He returned from Qingqiu Mountain and didn't have time to go to Danxue Mountain. If it weren't for the help of a divine beast, then it must have been Fuxi who entrusted this body to him. I didn't know what to say.

"A fairy maiden?" he asked tentatively.

"Do you think this face is unlucky?" I asked him, trying to maintain an outsider's stance.

He paused, then lowered his hand and gently stroked the woman's cold cheeks in the coffin. In that instant, I almost felt a cool touch on my own cheek.

“She is beautiful, but she doesn’t realize it herself. When I call her an auspicious omen, when I call her my queen, she always looks at her hands, and she always makes little movements that she herself is unaware of. At that time, I really didn’t know what to do to make her understand that she is the best to me.”

I bit my lip hard, roared at the Liao Yan in my heart, and then said, "Now you know what to do?"

His expression softened suddenly, his fingertips trembling slightly as he brushed her long, pale eyelashes, a particularly poignant smile appearing on his face: "Her eyesight is poor, so I should always stay where she can see. Her health is poor, so I should let her carry me on my back, I should carry her to all the places she wants to go, I should leave her without even a moment to feel inferior or refuse. I should stay by her side. I should leave with her. I should..."

"No need to say anything more."

He leaned against the coffin, took her hand, and said in a hoarse voice, "I'm sorry, I've been a bit noisy today. Please forgive me, Fairy."

"No..." I didn't know how to explain for a moment. It wasn't that he was being noisy, it's just that I didn't know if I would break down if he continued talking, or if I would be swallowed up by Liao Yan's memories.

"I will help you fulfill her wish." That was all I could say.

He suddenly looked up and broke into a big smile, but the loneliness and sorrow in his eyes were deeply etched there, as if they would never disappear.

"Thank you, Fairy!"

"It was nothing." I reached into the coffin and gently touched her cheek. Her fair skin gradually spread out, until it reached the roots of her hair, where it turned into the black of night.

It's strange. I've been looking forward to this scene for twenty years, and it's become my dying wish. In the end, I fulfilled this wish for myself.

Liao Yan was considered exceptionally handsome among mortals. Her body, serene and beautiful, resembled a delicately painted portrait of a sleeping beauty, lightly powdered and slowly blended. Sadly, such a face will never again appear in my mirror.

Suddenly, a cool sensation slid down the back of my hand.

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