Chapter 105 Meeting Yun Chao (Part 3)

Xie Yin tilted his head slightly and looked at him with a gentle smile.

Bai Qianfan was stunned, standing there blankly, unable to utter a single word.

He hesitated, raising his hand to touch him, but fearing it would shatter if he touched it, he lowered it with trembling hands.

After exhaling and inhaling several times, Bai Qianfan finally called out to him, her voice choked with emotion, "Xie Yin..."

"You...you persistent ghost, I've forgotten what you look like, how can I still recognize you at a glance?"

“Outrageous!” Xie Yin said in an incredibly gentle tone, though his reproachful voice was accusatory: “What should you call me?”

"Master..." Bai Qianfan's tears could no longer be held back and fell one after another.

He missed Xie Yin so much that he couldn't bear to blink, wanting to stare at him like that for a lifetime. No, in the next life, and the life after that, he would never let Xie Yin go again.

"Why are you crying?" Xie Yin was a little surprised and quickly wiped away the tears from the corners of his eyes, feeling somewhat guilty: "I was a little harsh just now, I didn't mean to blame you, don't cry."

Xie Yin was clumsy with words and didn't know how to comfort people, so he could only keep wiping away Xie Yin's tears and telling him not to cry.

In the end, he had no other choice but to compromise: "Alright, you can call my name if you want. But you have to do it when no one is around."

Bai Qianfan burst into laughter through her tears and said, "You can shout where no one's around?"

Xie Yin nodded: "Mm"

"Thank you, Yin." Bai Qianfan immediately tried it out.

Xie Yin lowered his head slightly and did not respond.

Bai Qianfan wanted to call out again, but heard Xie Yin say softly, "I'm here."

Bai Qianfan was stunned for a moment, then suddenly pounced on Xie Yin and hugged him.

They rarely made such intimate gestures between them, and Xie Yin was clearly taken aback, unsure of what to do with his hands.

"What's wrong?" Xie Yin asked.

"It's nothing," Bai Qianfan shook his head, "I just had a dream."

"What dream did you have? Can you tell me about it?"

“A dream that has trapped me my whole life.”

He held Xie Yin in his arms and looked at the fire that had begun to burn behind Xie Yin. He knew this was an illusion because the fire was burning too fast, so fast that it swallowed up the bedroom, the wooden house, and all the days and nights he and Xie Yin had spent together.

The fire began to burn them, the scorching pain unbearable, but Xie Yin seemed oblivious, holding him close and chuckling, "What nonsense are you talking about?"

"It's great," Bai Qianfan said with a forced smile, gritting his teeth and ignoring the burning pain of the flames. "I never imagined I'd see you again in this lifetime."

Xie Yin said helplessly, "Next time, even if you are naughty again, I won't make you kneel as punishment. You just come back and talk nonsense."

Bai Qianfan smiled through her tears, hugging him even tighter, as if the man would disappear from her sight at any moment.

"Punish me, punish me for the rest of my life, I'll do it willingly."

"A lifetime is a very long time."

"...It's not that long, is it?"

The flames burned higher and higher, completely engulfing the two of them. Fortunately, Bai Qianfan held Xie Yin tightly this time and never let go.

Outside the formation, despite Cheng Yuan's constant protection, Chu Jianshan still had numerous wounds, and the group was driven to the brink of despair.

Chu Jianshan wanted Dong Qi to leave with Meng Yufeng, but he refused no matter what, and in the end, he could only watch helplessly as he collapsed next to Meng Yufeng.

Even the transmission talisman was useless; he couldn't hear Bai Qianfan's voice no matter what he did. Chu Jianshan felt an unprecedented despair.

The puppet's swords fell again, and he waited with his eyes closed, but he did not feel the pain he had expected.

Opening my eyes, I saw these puppets struggling in place, as if they were being suppressed by something.

Chu Jianshan's heart sank heavily, and he felt a chill run through his entire body.

"Master, run!"

Taking advantage of the fact that the puppets were temporarily unable to move, Cheng Yuan pulled him up and, just as Bai Qianfan had suggested, headed down the mountain.

All the towns and villages below the mountain, as far as the eye could see, were engulfed in flames, the fires soaring into the sky as bright as day.

Beneath the thick smoke, countless civilians were fleeing frantically. The puppets were mindless; any living person would be hacked to pieces until they were mangled and lifeless.

In a short time, the scene was littered with corpses and rivers of blood.

"...Save people first." Chu Jianshan could barely recognize his own voice.

The group split up and did everything in their power to save as many as they could.

Li Xi was drawn to the sound of a child crying. After searching for a while, he finally found the trembling child under a broken wooden pillar.

"Don't cry, give me your hand." She immediately knelt down and reached out to pull the person out.

But no sooner had he finished speaking than a sharp cracking sound of breaking wood rang out, and the roof beams, now just a burnt-out frame, collapsed with a deafening roar.

Li Xi was unable to dodge in time and was instantly buried in a sea of ​​fire and ruins.

The charred logs slammed into him, the excruciating pain nearly causing him to faint, yet he still held tightly to the person in his arms, using his own body to create a small space.

"Hold me back!" Lin Mumu's voice pierced through the smoke and dust.

Li Xi suddenly opened his eyes and looked incredulously at the figures outside through the gaps in the ruins.

She used all her strength to push the child away, but Lin Mumu held her wrist tightly.

"Take the child out first!" Li Xi's voice trembled slightly.

By now, their spiritual power had been exhausted, and Lin Mumu could only pry open the charred wood with her bare hands, her palms burning and bleeding.

Just as the child was pulled from the rubble, the pile of wood on Li Xi's body suddenly sank again, burying her even deeper.

The embers on the charred wood ignited Li Xi's clothes, and the orange-red flames climbed rapidly up her fabric, scorching her skin.

The intense pain spurred her to fight for her life. With all her might, she reached out towards Lin Mumu and cried out at the top of her lungs, "Help me!"

Lin Mumu subconsciously reached out her hand, but her fingertips suddenly stopped a fist's distance away from her.

A flicker of terror crossed Li Xi's eyes, as if she had realized something. She frantically leaned forward, tears mingling with cigarette ash as she pleaded, "Please... save me! Please!!"

Lin Mumu remained expressionless, slowly withdrew her hand, and stood up indifferently.

The flames burned ever brighter, soon completely engulfing Li Xi's figure, until the shrill screams gradually weakened and finally faded into silence.

The heat of the flames, carrying the smell of burning, caused Lin Mumu's clothes to flutter at her feet. She gazed silently at the burning ruins for a long time before turning and leaving without looking back.

On the other side, Chu Jianshan was breathing heavily, and cold sweat dripped down his dusty face.

My head felt like it had been hit hard, and I was extremely dizzy. In my remaining consciousness, all I could see were the silent people being crushed under the charred roof beams as I turned them over one by one.

He collapsed to his knees, clenching his teeth, unable to utter a single word.

The night wind swept sparks across his face, his disheveled hair clung to his sweat-dampened forehead, and his once-clean clothes were now stained with ash. He seemed to have lost all his strength, leaving only deathly silence and bewilderment.

After an unknown amount of time, a rustling sound broke the silence.

It was the soft sound of shoes rolling over the scorched earth, approaching him step by step, and finally stopping in front of him.

Chu Jianshan remained silent for a moment, without glancing at the newcomer, and asked with his head down, "...Is this what you wanted to see?"

Zhao Yi fell silent, a rare occurrence for him.

After a long silence, he let out a deep sigh and said, "These people are pathetically stupid."

"Five hundred years ago, they said I had killed my master and brother and wanted me to die; five hundred years later, they personally put me on the savior's throne."

"Chu Jianshan, they also tried to kill you. Do you want to be this savior too?"

Chu Jianshan staggered to his feet, turned to face Zhao Yi, and looked at him with little light left in his eyes.

“Savior…” Chu Jianshan carefully considered these three words, a cold laugh escaping his throat: “…What a savior.”

"Zhao Yi, I've said it more than once: you and I are not the same kind of people. Don't even think about getting any sympathy or understanding from me. From beginning to end, all I've ever wanted is for you to die!"

Chu Jianshan's eyes were bloodshot, and the hatred surging in them was about to devour him.

Zhao Yi stared into his eyes, trying to understand his hatred: "It's not surprising that everyone wants me dead."

"But Chu Jianshan, you have to admit that you are slowly getting closer to me."

"...Is that so?" Chu Jianshan gritted his teeth, his voice trembling uncontrollably. "We've come this far. What do you want me to do next?"

Zhao Yi lowered his head and chuckled softly: "Now that things have come to this, it seems that no matter what you do, I won't be happy."

He slowly turned around, his back to Chu Jianshan, and looked at the sea of ​​fire. The sounds of clashing swords mingled with the screams and groans of people on their deathbeds.

"I just feel... that it must be a bit lonely to have endured all these years alone."

"It would be a lie to say I don't regret it. I think... I'd like to try giving myself another chance to choose."

"So..." Chu Jianshan approached him step by step, "I am you?"

“Yes,” Zhao Yi smiled and turned his head, “...I am you too.”

The night wind swept through them, carrying specks of fire, casting flickering light on their faces. Neither of them tried to take another step.

Five hundred years of grudges burned away everything in this world.

Zhao Yi said, "You and I are both cowards."

"Zheng—!"

The moment the Flowing Sound Sword sliced ​​through the flames, it sparked against the embers, aiming straight for Zhao Yi's face. The latter raised his palm to condense a spiritual energy barrier; the instant the sword struck the barrier, a sharp, piercing buzzing sound filled the air.

Zhao Yi slowly withdrew his palm, his gaze falling on Cheng Yuan.

"You can be the coward yourself, there's no need to drag my master into it." Cheng Yuan walked quickly to Chu Jianshan's side and held Chu Jianshan's hand in his warm palm.

Zhao Yi chuckled softly and looked away: "How enviable, to have someone by your side in the end."

Chu Jianshan grasped Cheng Yuan's hand and pulled him behind him to protect him.

"...Envy? How much better can I be than you? It's you who just won't let yourself off the hook."

Zhao Yi lowered his head, his fingertips tracing the patterns on the longsword in his hand, and silence lingered in the air for a long time: "It's easy to say, but if you could let go of that too, you wouldn't be standing in front of me tonight."

“Chu, Jian, Shan,” he slowly raised his eyes, uttering Chu Jian Shan’s name slowly and deliberately, drawing out the last syllable.

"I'd really like to know why you chose this name for yourself."

Chu Jianshan met his gaze, his voice calm, and replied, "Seeing mountains as not mountains, seeing water as not water, all the things in this world are nothing more than obsession."

Zhao Yi laughed and turned to look east. There, surrounded by mountains, after all this commotion, the dark peaks were beginning to show signs of turning white.

"Let's end all this quickly, it's almost dawn."

As soon as the words were spoken, the pure white sword, carrying immense spiritual power, once again hurtled through the air. Mo Yang and Liu Yin drew their swords simultaneously, barely managing to block the attack.

"Its name is Return to Dust."

With a loud bang, the two forces of spiritual energy collided violently, blasting the two people away. They staggered back a few steps before regaining their footing.

The two spiritual cores within Zhao Yi's body complement each other, and their spiritual power flows like a surging river, inexhaustible. If this continues, neither Chu Jianshan nor Cheng Yuan will survive.

The only way is to find the location of the Wood Spirit Core in his body. As long as the Wood Spirit Core's healing ability is gone, they will still have a chance to fight to the death.

Zhao Yi's offensive became increasingly fierce, and Chu Jianshan and Cheng Yuan could only passively defend themselves, with almost no room for resistance.

Suddenly, Chu Jianshan discovered that his wounds were slowly healing, and a warm, gentle spiritual energy swirled around him, flowing along his meridians.

Zhao Yi caught a glimpse of this scene out of the corner of his eye and couldn't help but chuckle: "I almost forgot that there is such a young friend here, who is also a Wood Spirit Core."

"Stop talking nonsense! Prepare to die!"

Lin Mumu had used up all her remaining spiritual energy on Chu Jianshan and Cheng Yuan, so in the next battle, she could only engage in close combat with Zhao Yi.

Strangely enough, despite having no chance of winning, Lin Mumu pressed forward relentlessly, even blocking Zhao Yi's attacks aimed at Chu Jianshan and Cheng Yuan.

The meaning is clear: if you're going to fight, fight her alone.

Zhao Yi's last bit of patience was exhausted, so he summoned Huichen directly towards Lin Mumu. She had no spiritual power and couldn't stop him.

But Lin Mumu showed no intention of dodging, standing still and waiting for Guichen to pierce her body.

The moment the sword pierced his heart, Lin Mumu didn't feel much pain. It was only when her spiritual core discovered the fatal wound and frantically absorbed spiritual energy in an attempt to heal him that she felt the real pain.

"Lin Mumu!"

Chu Jianshan and Cheng Yuan rushed over in a panic, but Lin Mumu laughed and gripped the hilt of Guichen's sword, making it pierce deeper.

The Wood Spirit Core slowly shattered, unleashing its last burst of spiritual power, which resonated with the Wood Spirit Core within Zhao Yi's body.

Zhao Yi's pupils constricted, and he instantly understood her intention. He immediately drew his sword to send her on her final journey.

Lin Mumu knew there was no way to avoid it, so she shouted in Chu Jianshan's direction, "The Wood Spirit Core is two inches above and to the right of his heart...!"

With a soft "pfft," Lin Mumu's voice abruptly stopped.

Gui Chen slashed her neck hard, and blood gushed out.

"Mumu—!!"

Chu Jianshan's eyes were bloodshot with rage, and his boundless hatred transformed into spiritual power, which carried Mo Yang as they charged towards the location of his wood spirit core.

Zhao Yi was about to confront him head-on when he looked up and saw that Cheng Yuan was not by Chu Jianshan's side. Realizing something was wrong, Cheng Yuan's palm had already struck him hard from behind.

The force of the burst of spiritual energy shoved him violently toward Mo Yangjian, the sword piercing through his body in the blink of an eye.

Zhao Yi stood frozen in place, looking down to see a bloody hole in his chest.

Mo Yang passed right through it.

A crisp cracking sound rang out, and the wood spirit core inside Zhao Yi's body shattered, its spiritual power scattering away like a tide.

"No...no!" Zhao Yi collapsed to his knees, reaching out to grab the dissipating spiritual energy.

"Don't go!!"

The harder you try, the faster the spiritual energy dissipates, eventually dissipating like smoke and disappearing without a trace.

Zhao Yi lowered his head, clutching the bleeding wound on his chest, and made a strange sound from his throat that sounded like both crying and laughing.

Chu Jianshan, panting heavily, walked towards him step by step, his voice tinged with exhaustion: "The outcome is already decided, there's no need to struggle anymore."

Zhao Yi trembled, his throat gurgling as if it were filled with blood, uttering incomprehensible sounds: "Ha...hahahahahaha..."

Chu Jianshan heard him clearly this time; he was laughing.

"Is the outcome already decided? I don't think so." He raised his head, his bloodshot eyes glaring fiercely at Chu Jianshan.

“These puppets are still here. The masks are destroyed. Even if I die, they won’t disappear.”

Chu Jianshan remained silent for a long time, his breathing becoming heavy, before he gritted his teeth and asked, "...Do you have a way?"

Zhao Yi burst into laughter again, looking like a madman: "...Now that things have come to this, I don't believe you still can't guess it."

He swayed as he stood up, his eyes red as he looked at Chu Jianshan, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth: "I like your intelligence, and I admire your self-deception, but unfortunately, you have no choice."

He pointed in Cheng Yuan's direction: "The solution is him."

Cheng Yuan was startled for a moment, but quickly regained his composure.

Chu Jianshan, his veins bulging as he gripped Mo Yang's hand, almost gritted his teeth as he asked, "Endure the backlash? Or have your cultivation abolished?"

Zhao Yi slowly leaned closer to him and whispered in his ear, word by word, "It's his fate."

"Do you believe I'll kill you?!" Chu Jianshan's eyes were bloodshot, and Mo Yang's cold light surged. He pressed down hard on Zhao Yi's neck, leaving a bloody gash.

Zhao Yi remained unfazed, his expression slightly mocking: "Of course I believe you. Why wouldn't I? But even if I die, I can't change this fact."

He grabbed Chu Jianshan's wrist, forcing him to slowly put Mo Yang down, his voice icy and chilling: "These common people, or your disciple, you can only choose one."

Chu Jianshan took two deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down, and turned to look at Cheng Yuan, not wanting him to notice his abnormality.

Cheng Yuan didn't come over; he just stood there, gave him a slight smile, and softly called out, "Master."

The voice was very soft, but Chu Jianshan heard it clearly. Tears welled up uncontrollably, but Chu Jianshan forced himself to hold them back and tried to go over to her.

But for every step he took forward, Cheng Yuan would take a step back.

Chu Jianshan was stunned and asked him, "What are you going to do?"

Cheng Yuan gripped the Flowing Sound in his hand and looked at him: "I want to do one last thing for my master."

"No...no!" Chu Jianshan panicked, his words becoming somewhat incoherent.

"Cheng Yuan, listen to me... He... what he said might not be true! What if he's just lying to us!"

Cheng Yuan showed no expression, as if what he was determined to do was just a trivial matter.

He understood that Zhao Yi was telling the truth.

“Master, you should know this better than I do.”

"I don't know!!"

Chu Jianshan completely broke down: "I'd rather be a fool, I'd rather know nothing about this world! I don't want to... I don't want to suffer like this again and again."

"I beg you..."

Chu Jianshan wanted to walk to his side and hold his hand tightly. But the short distance between them was an insurmountable chasm.

"Don't do this... I really..."

Chu Jianshan could no longer bear it, letting his tears fall: "I really can't bear the consequences of losing you..."

"You're all I have left...you're all I have left!!"

Tears fell to the ground, instantly mingling with the scorched earth.

Cheng Yuan turned to look at the scene in the city. He knew that if he hesitated for even a second longer, one more person would die.

The Flowing Sound slowly rose as he gathered all his remaining spiritual power into the Flowing Sound Sword. After glancing at Chu Jianshan, he spun the sword and plunged it towards his own heart.

"don't want--!!"

Chu Jianshan rushed over like a madman, staggered and knelt down on the ground, almost crawling over.

Blood gushed from the horrifying wound, and he tried in vain to stop it, but his fingertips could not retain any warmth, and he could not stop the bleeding no matter what he did.

"Master..." Cheng Yuan swallowed the blood in his mouth and forced a smile.

He deliberately chose the location of his heart, because that way he could die more slowly and catch another glimpse of Chu Jianshan.

"Master..." Cheng Yuan called out to him again.

"I'm here...I'm here." Chu Jianshan almost sobbed uncontrollably, clinging tightly to Cheng Yuan.

Cheng Yuan slowly raised his hand, his blood-stained hand tightly gripping Chu Jianshan's sleeve: "Don't cry..."

He told Chu Jianshan not to cry, but tears kept streaming down his own face.

Now, although it's not a perfect ending, it's the best solution he could think of.

Chu Jianshan is the Southern Immortal Venerable, a young swordsmanship genius, and a disciple of Changjin Mountain who cares for the world and devotes himself to the common people.

Everyone praised and flattered him, and he was happy to see Chu Jianshan standing high above, with the untainted air of an immortal, hoping that all the filth in the world would not appear before him.

In the end, it was I who ruined him.

Unlike Chu Jianshan, he wasn't ambitious. Everything he did was so that Chu Jianshan would glance at him more, say a few more words to him, and smile at him more often.

He didn't want to be some kind of savior, but he wanted to personally carry Chu Jianshan up the mountain.

As his consciousness began to blur, Cheng Yuan clearly sensed that the amount of blood in his body was decreasing.

It's cold, so cold.

"Master..." Cheng Yuan's voice grew softer and softer, almost inaudible: "During the two years you were gone, I didn't..."

"No innocent people were harmed... no one acted as an accomplice to evil..."

"I'm not a bad person... Master, please don't hate me."

Chu Jianshan hugged him tighter and tighter, trying to warm his body: "I know... I know everything..."

"How could I possibly hate you? Don't sleep, talk to me a little longer, okay?"

"……good"

Cheng Yuan agreed, but his grip on Chu Jianshan's hand loosened more and more.

Slowly, his hands, as if freed from restraint, fell gently to the ground covered in scorched earth and mud.

Chu Jianshan froze, forgetting to breathe.

He only felt pain, spreading from his heart, a dense, piercing pain all over his body, and the pain was getting worse and worse.

He didn't scream, he didn't break down, he just calmly endured all the pain until his whole body trembled.

As the sun rose on the horizon and its rays bathed the earth, all the puppets suddenly stopped moving, as if controlled, and slowly turned to face the sun, walking towards it.

Their pace was slow; they could never finish the five-hundred-year journey.

They began to slowly disappear, their spiritual energy dissipating like fireflies, leaving behind a clean, serene presence as if they had never been there.

For a long, long time.

Chu Jianshan stood up again, staggering and almost falling, his thin figure facing away from Zhao Yi.

Zhao Yi said in a deep voice, "Now, it's just the two of us left."

Chu Jianshan did not answer. Mo Yang began to tremble violently in Chu Jianshan's hand, with cyan spiritual energy swirling around him like smoke, layer upon layer, becoming increasingly powerful.

If Zhao Yi can mobilize all his spiritual power, he still has a chance to withstand this attack.

A sharp sound almost pierced eardrums; it was Mo Yang's sound of tearing through the air. Zhao Yi used all his spiritual power to condense a shield in front of him.

"Bang--"

Chu Jianshan thrust at Zhao Yi, the impact forcing him to retreat continuously until he was pressed against a charred pillar. Then the pillar broke, one, two, three... until he had broken more than a dozen pillars before the shield exhausted all its spiritual power and could no longer withstand Mo Yang's attack.

Mo Yang stabbed into Zhao Yi's collarbone, then turned and slashed his neck horizontally.

"Wait!" Zhao Yi suddenly shouted.

Chu Jianshan asked, "Any last words?"

Zhao Yi, panting heavily, said, "If you kill me now, Cheng Yuan really won't be able to be saved."

Chu Jianshan remained unfazed: "Without the Wood Spirit Core, do you still dream of rebirth?"

Zhao Yi smiled and, enduring the pain, summoned the fragments of the Wood Spirit Core from his body one by one, slowly piecing them together into a complete spirit core covered in cracks.

"I can't bear to see Cheng Yuan die a tragic death. Killing me is fine too, as long as I leave this spirit core, place it inside Cheng Yuan's body, nourish it with spiritual power every day, and then..."

"...and then become the next you?"

Zhao Yi was stunned. After a long silence, he burst into maniacal laughter.

"Hahaha... As expected of you, Chu Jianshan. Even in such a desperate situation, you can still say things that please me."

"Okay, you and I... are still a little different."

Zhao Yi, with a strength he didn't know he came from, gripped Chu Jianshan's wrist tighter and tighter, forcing the sword in Chu Jianshan's hand to slit his own throat.

Blood gushed onto Chu Jianshan's face and into his eyes, turning his face red as he looked at Zhao Yi, but the man never wavered from his smile.

"Chu Jianshan, thank you for giving me the most satisfying play."

play……?

Chu Jianshan's pupils suddenly contracted, his chest heaved violently, and his expression was one of disbelief.

Has it all come to this, still within the context of his own drama? Is this still not over?

Before he could think it through, he felt a wave of dizziness, and the surrounding scenery spread out like an ink painting, and he disappeared from the scene along with it.

...

Tick-tock—tick-tock—

It's the sound of water droplets hitting a stone.

Chu Jianshan rubbed his aching temples, feeling as if he had slept for a long time, and now, he felt like he was in a cave.

"You're finally awake. I thought I'd never see you again."

It's Zhao Yi's voice!

Chu Jianshan looked in the direction of the sound and saw Zhao Yi standing there unharmed.

"You..." Chu Jianshan was so shocked that he couldn't speak.

Zhao Yi said, "So surprised? It seems you don't like this dream."

"Dream?" Chu Jianshan keenly caught the word and asked him, "What dream?"

Zhao Yi's voice sounded somewhat weak: "Just as you think, all of this is nothing more than a dream I wove for you."

"You should thank me for granting you a sweet dream."

"Is that so?" Chu Jianshan drew Mo Yang and slowly walked towards him.

Where does the dream begin?

“I know what you want to ask,” Zhao Yi said, looking up at him without trying to avoid the question. “Don’t worry, they’re not dead.”

Just as Mo Yang was about to stab him, Chu Jianshan suddenly stopped.

We were too far away before, and only now can we see clearly that Zhao Yi's body is bound by vines.

No, it's not confinement. These vines grew out of his body, as if sucking his blood for nourishment, climbing wildly upwards along the stone wall, trapping him here as well.

Behind him was a stone statue of a woman, very similar to the one in the Temple of the Sun, except that this one had no veil, showing a complete human face.

“Did you know,” Zhao Yi suddenly said, “that spirit cores also have a lifespan.”

"It has been with me for five hundred years, and now it is leaving too."

"...So you're leaving too?" Chu Jianshan asked.

Zhao Yi nodded: "I didn't like the ending of my dream, so I found a more dignified way for myself."

Chu Jianshan sheathed his sword, looked him up and down, and said truthfully, "You don't look very presentable either."

Zhao Yi forced a smile: "Haven't I told you that you don't have a very pleasant way of speaking?"

"Really? What kind of nice things do you want to hear? I can say them once."

Zhao Yi raised an eyebrow: "Is it because I'm about to die?"

Chu Jianshan said, "It's because of Zhao Yi's past."

Zhao Yi slowly exhaled: "Alright, go ahead and say it."

Chu Jianshan was silent for a while, then said, "In the next life, you might be able to continue your relationship with Qiao Azhao."

Zhao Yi lowered his head and chuckled, then looked at Chu Jianshan after a long while: "Although it's something to say to a child, it does sound nice."

Both he and Chu Jianshan knew that the evil deeds he had committed over the past five hundred years, his defiance of the heavens, and all such things were telling him that he would not have a next life.

"Give me a quick death, Chu Jianshan," Zhao Yi pleaded.

Chu Jianshan held Mo Yang tightly, but hesitated to make a move.

"Your own life is yours to end."

Judging from his current condition, he won't last much longer.

Zhao Yi paused for a moment, then asked him, "Didn't you want revenge?"

Chu Jianshan said, "After you die, all hatred will naturally dissipate. As for whether you die by my hand, it doesn't matter."

Chu Jianshan turned and left, walking towards the cave entrance.

Zhao Yi chuckled: "Alright...alright."

His body grew weaker and weaker, and he almost lost the strength to speak. In the end, he could only use all his strength to look up at the stone statue.

A drop of water fell, hitting the corner of the stone statue's eye, sliding down her face, and dripping onto Zhao Yi's forehead.

With her last breath, she finally let out a sigh: "My A-Zhao..."

Zhao Yi died in this dark and gloomy place.

Chu Jianshan did not stop, but walked resolutely toward the cave entrance, knowing that someone was waiting for him there.

The light at the cave entrance grew stronger, and the people in front of us became clearer.

Just like back then, he held a blue longsword, his dark robes billowing in the wind, and the ends of his hair swaying gently.

Chu Jianshan ran over just like he had back then, faster and faster, until he was embraced by a warm embrace.

The five hundred years of fabrication have now come to a real conclusion.

—End of text—

[Author's Note]

Author's Closing Remarks

Okay, that's the end of the story!

I'm so glad to have everyone with me along the way. What follows are just some random thoughts from the author. If you don't like them, you can skip to the last sentence.

Before I started writing, I went through a long period of hesitation. Yes, I hesitated for three years before I finally mustered up the courage to apply for a visa after my junior year of college.

The reason for my hesitation is nothing more than a lack of courage. In my mother's words, I've always had the personality of a naughty boy (dialect, referring to a mischievous and disobedient boy), loud and boisterous, and I always felt that something as refined as writing was not something I could relate to.

Therefore, when I submitted the application, I didn't pay much attention to it, thinking that I should give up completely and give my younger self an explanation.

But for some inexplicable reason, I got the visa...

Alright, alright, since I'm already here, I might as well make the best of it. So, without a single word in my draft, I'm starting to write.

Perhaps every writer has had a fantasy: that they can write with divine inspiration, with extraordinary writing skills, producing several chapters in a flash, and then their novel becomes an overnight sensation, loved by many readers.

So what's the reality...?

Secretly searching for synonyms for a certain word on Baidu, then looking at the three-character phrase, picking at my nails and biting my lip.

Why didn't anyone tell me that writing is so hard?!

Why can't I think of a single word?!

Well, it's not as easy as it seems on the surface. The biggest blow to writing isn't poor writing skills, a bland story, or a lack of brainpower. It's the realization, as each word accumulates, that you're just a mediocre author, and that not many readers enjoy your stories.

Despite such a devastating blow, he still had to continue creating this thing that he himself defined as "garbage".

So I sought help everywhere, asked people to read my articles, and occasionally fed myself some inspirational quotes, telling myself that I wasn't that bad, maybe I just lacked the right opportunity.

This person is very stubborn. The more he can't understand something, the more he wants to retrieve it from his memory, think about it repeatedly, and try to find a solution.

So a week later, I found a solution.

I decided to accept my mediocrity while continuing to create stories.

I am just an ordinary person, so ordinary that I wouldn't even recognize myself in a crowd, and even some youthful ambition can't change that.

But the story must go on, because there are always people who like it.

Perhaps it was just bad luck, or perhaps even the heavens couldn't bear to see someone like me suffer, but during the writing process, countless things began to happen one after another:

A persistent high fever, the worst I've had in over a decade; conflicts with classmates; graduation anxiety; job pressure; timidity during interviews; family illness; and recurring migraines.

Countless things were hindering me, and this novel was written intermittently during its serialization. Every time I wanted to give up, I was coaxed back by a few people who added it to their favorites.

But no matter the reason, the people I feel most sorry for are my readers. Fortunately, I didn't go into paid subscriptions at that time, so I didn't waste everyone's money.

Fortunately, I still have a tiny, barely perceptible amount of resentment and courage left.

Sometimes, youthful arrogance isn't a bad thing. At least it allows me to maintain basic dignity even after taking the first step and being overwhelmed by reality—I refuse to give up! Not now, and certainly not in the future!

In any case, I persevered and finished writing this book, which is a way of giving myself and everyone else an explanation.

You are all gifts from God. I only wish that each of my readers will never lose the courage to live in the future.

May you have peace, joy, and smooth sailing without worry.