There was light.

     When Mo Ran opened his eyes, he found himself lying in a sky of lavender-red clouds. He slowly blinked his eyes and turned his neck. Then he stood up—he found that this wasn’t the sky but a palace made entirely of amethyst. Because the palace was so large, and a single brick was the size of a carriage, he had mistakenly thought it was the clouds.

     There was a tall man standing in the distance, leaning against the window and looking outside.

     The man was wearing a robe of indistinct texture, and he was barefoot, holding a luminous glass cup in his hand and absentmindedly swirling the amber liquid inside. Outside the window, a tree of bright red flowers was in full bloom, with little bits of silver light dripping from the stamens.

     There was no such clothing or flowers in the world.

     Mo Ran was sure that there was no such palace in the mortal world either.

     “Where am I?” he asked.

     The man’s fingertips paused, and he turned half of his face slightly, but because it was reflected by the light, Mo Ran couldn't see his face clearly.

     “You're quite calm, hero.”

     “...”

     The man drained the wine in his glass and casually set it down on the windowsill before walking toward him.

     Soon, Mo Ran could see clearly. This man’s face was slightly similar to Gouchen the Exalted, with a blood-red spider mole under the corner of his eye. He had very thin lips and looked like he had a bad temper.

     “I am the second generation Lord of the Demon Realm,” the man said slowly, his eyes fixed on Mo Ran’s reaction. “You are now in the Demon Palace.”

     Mo Ran was silent for a moment, then said, “...If you didn’t say anything, I’d treat you as Yanluo.”

     The man chucked. “Do you really think you’re dead?”

     “No.” Mo Ran looked into his eyes. “I don’t think so. But I don’t think I’m still alive either.”

     The Demon Lord’s smile became more evident. “You’re right.”

     He stretched out his hand, and his dragon-scale gloved fingertips easily pierced Mo Ran’s chest, but Mo Ran didn’t feel the slightest pain.

     “You are indeed not a living person.” The Demon Lord said, “You are just a gathered soul.”

     Mo Ran didn’t make a sound.

     The Demon Lord said languidly, “My ancestors set a rule that the Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feasts in the mortal world may not return to the demon realm unless they are vindictive to the gods and destroy Fuxi’s forbidden technique. ...From the Zhenlong Chess Formation to the Gate of Time, Space, Life, and Death, you did it for them, my hero.”

     Mo Ran said somberly, “That wasn’t what I wanted to do. That’s Hua Binan—”

     “He is neither god nor demon but a half-breed.” The Demon Lord’s eyes were full of contempt. “He once vowed to absolutely never harm his own kind in his life. But he failed to do so.”

     “...You mean he harmed Song Qiutong?”

     “No.” The Demon Lord spoke, his ruby eyes reflecting Mo Ran’s shadow as he raised his hands and gently caressed the face of Mo Ran’s soul. “You know who I’m talking about.”

     “...”

     “You sensed it the moment the gate to the demon realm opened.” The Demon Lord’s gaze was as sharp as a knife. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have promised that little xianjun like that in the end. You actually know it in your own heart.”

     Mo Ran said nothing, his eyelashes drooping.

     The Demon Lord slowly stood up, his tall stature casting a dark shadow on the ground. He said, “Mo Weiyu, you should know that there is a very special type of Beauty Feast in the world. They do not shed golden tears, do not have any demonic aura, and if they don’t recognize their ancestors, even the evil spirit of Mount Huang that has a blood contract with the Beauty Feats can’t detect them. As a result, some of them will never discover their true identities even until their deaths…”

     Mo Ran said dryly, “So what?”

     The Demon Lord smiled and said, “So what? …You should be well aware of the overbearing spiritual energy this type of person can inherit from the ancient demon clan, just like the Lord of Huabi, Song Xingyi, many years ago.”

     As he spoke, a purple-black light suddenly appeared at his fingertips. He pointed the light toward Mo Ran, and the light immediately floated into Mo Ran’s soul. At the same time, Mo Ran felt a vigorous force surging through his three souls and six spirits before it was completely absorbed by his body.

     The Demon Lord watched the scene in front of him and smiled. “Look, you really can absorb my race’s energy.”

     “...”

     “I'm talking about you,” the Demon Lord said. "You are the other special Beauty Feast after Song Xingyi—it's just that you’ve never discovered it. Hua Binan never noticed it at all either.”

     Mo Ran raised his eyes.

     The Demon Lord put his hands behind his back and looked at the floating flowers outside the window again. “It's a pity that he made a solemn vow, saying that he would never harm the people of his clan, and that he would protect every Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast that could be saved. But he harmed you for a lifetime.”

     Mo Ran stood up from the ground. He wasn’t in the mood to listen to this nonsense. Whether he was harmed or used, it was all in the past.

     The only thing he was worried about now was: “Can I go back?”

     “Go back where?” The Demon Lord glanced back at him. “To the mortal world?”

     “The mortal world.”

     “What’s so good about the mortal world? They’re just a bunch of bumbling ants. You have the ability and the courage, and you are a member of my race.” The Demon Lord said indifferently, “It is precisely because you are a demon that I can summon your soul and call you back to the Demon Palace. If you stay here, you will live for ten thousand years. You have shown me with your strength that you can serve my race.”

     Mo Ran smiled. “Sorry, but I have always relied on others to do things for me, and I have never done anything for anyone else.”

     The Demon Lord stared at him with his dark red eyes, without saying a word, but with a hint of scrutiny and accusation.

     “...Fine.” Mo Ran said, “There is one exception. I am willing to do anything for him.”

     The Demon Lord sneered, “You serve a piece of wood?”

     “He is not a piece of wood.”

     The Demon Lord rolled his eyes. “I am being polite when I call him ‘little xianjun.’ He is not even a god, just a rotten seedling planted by old Shennong.” Seeing that Mo Ran was growing increasingly furious, the Demon Lord stopped speaking. He turned to the side and leaned his thin waist against the windowsill. “Are you out of your mind?”

     “You need to understand one thing,” said the Demon Lord. “If you really plan to go back, you will continue to be unable to receive the advantage from the demon race. You can only live for a few decades, or at most a hundred years.”

     Mo Ran had been very tense before but laughed when he heard this. “That long?”

     “...”

     “It’s really considered a long life in the mortal world.”

     The Demon Lord seemed bewildered and annoyed. “The human race are but ants. What can they do in a few decades? What can they do in a hundred years? You tore open the Gate of Time, Space, Life, and Death and mastered the Zhenlong Chess Formation; I’m afraid even old Fuxi is enraged with you in the heavens. You have such talent, but you are willing to be a nobody.” The more he spoke, the more unhappy he became. In the end, he said bluntly, “Stupid.”

     Mo Ran lowered his eyes, his long lashes trembling. The Demon Lord first thought he was angry, but after a while, he took a closer look and found that he was trying not to laugh.

     Demon Lord: “............”

     Mo Ran raised his head and smiled brightly. “How did you know?”

     “...”

     “In the mortal world, many people say I’m stupid.”

     The Demon Lord rubbed his brow with the back of his hand. He looked like he had a headache and almost groaned. “How could there be such a shameful demon…?”

     “I’ve never thought of myself as a demon.” Mo Ran said, “It was only when the demon gate opened that I vaguely sensed it.”

     The Demon Lord glared at him.

     Mo Ran laughed for a while, then stopped and looked at the Demon Lord. “In any case, thank you for protecting my soul.”

     “I value talent.”

     Mo Ran shook his head. He didn’t intend to continue this conversation with the Demon Lord.

     He simply stared at the man in front of him sincerely and earnestly with those eyes that had moved countless hearts, then said, “But I’m sorry. I want to go back to the mortal world.”

     “...”

      Neither of them said anything more.

     “Reason.” The Demon Lord finally said stiffly, “Give me a reason.”

     “Because I promised someone.”

     Mo Ran said.

     “I promised I would return to him.”

     —

     Kunlun Taxue Palace—at this moment, the snowfall on the Tian Mountains had stopped, and the space-time rift finally closed. The flood of the previous life was like an absurd dream.

     The early morning glow gradually shone through, and the world was filled with grandeur and tranquility.

     “Chu-zongshi!”

     “Zongshi! Zongshi!”

     He could faintly hear someone calling him, and he slowly regained consciousness.

      Chu Wanning opened his eyes, and his gaze was vacant for a moment as the dust of two lifetimes seemed to have settled in those eyes. For a moment, he thought he was on Sisheng Peak, awakened one winter afternoon by the noisy voices of his disciples. It was as if he was in the dark and cold Wushan Palace, and Liu-gong stood by the couch, calling him back to the world with a sigh.

     It took a long time before his eyes eventually cleared. His brown pupils turned as he looked at the cultivators surrounding him, the snow falling from the sky, the night already lingering in the past, and the first hints of a red glow beginning to appear in the depths of the clouds.

     He closed his eyes slightly and murmured hoarsely, “Mo Ran…”

     It was as if the dead young man was responding to his longing, or perhaps it was an illusion caused by his deep obsession—he suddenly saw several wisps of golden-red light floating out of the remaining crack in the Gate of Life and Death, sliding across the rouge-colored sky and flying into the distance…

     What was that?!

     Chu Wanning’s eyes widened abruptly, but it wasn’t because of the shouts of the people around him but because of those wisps of golden-red.

     …What was that?

     His extinguished hope was ignited by the wonderful light, and he struggled to get up, without asking anyone for help or saying anything. Chu Wanning stumbled along with those golden rays of light, with people's anxious voices behind him.

     “Chu-zongshi…”

     At this moment, the mud and sand had finally been washed away, and everyone knew Mo Weiyu wasn’t a sinner, but the price was too great. It was unknown just how significant this innocence was after his death.

     But just as Mo Ran never cared about what the world thought of him and knew he was pure, he was dirty, he was mad, and he was foolish, Chu Wanning was the same. They both wanted the same thing more than anything—to have no regrets in their hearts.

     “Shizun!!”

     Xue Meng wanted to chase after him, but after taking a few steps, he heard a commotion in the crowd.

     A disciple from Guyueye’s side shouted in panic, “Sect Leader! Sect Leader, what happened to you?!”

     Xue Meng was startled and turned back abruptly to push through the crowd, only to see Jiang Xi collapse into the snow, with large pools of blood pouring out from beneath him.

     “What's going on?!” an elder of Guyueye howled. “Wasn't everything fine just a second ago?! How could this happen?!”

     Some disciples timidly pointed at a hideous wound on Jiang Xi's waist.

     “Yes... was he hit by a sharp weapon in the flood before? The Sect Leader was afraid that the situation would become more chaotic, so he didn't say anything…”

     There was a faint smell of blood in the air. Before dawn, Jiang Xi fell into the settled, peaceful present world with his eyes closed.

     “Heal his wounds quickly!”

     “What are you waiting for?! Save him!”

     Xue Meng’s heart was greatly shaken, and his mind was in turmoil. He staggered, still holding Xuehuang, which Jiang Xi had given him, in his hands. He turned his head, wanting to follow Chu Wanning’s back, but he only moved half an inch before he knelt on the ground and finally let out his tears.

     He didn’t know where, in this vast and uncertain cultivation world, he could find a place where feelings of love and hatred no longer existed. When he lifted his head, he found that his old companions were no longer in the mortal world. Those days of being arrogant and proud while chivalrously wielding a sword had already crossed the mortal world and would never return.

     On the vast, snowy Qiong Mountain path, Chu Wanning watched the golden-red lights fly into the sky, heading towards the distant mountains…

     “Believe me, I’ll try my best to see you and accompany you.”

     “I’m waiting for you in another world.”

     He suddenly shuddered, but Chu Wanning didn't dare to think about it too much. Before he saw the truth with his own eyes, he didn't dare hope for anything.

     By this time, the rising sun had pierced through the darkness of the abyss, rising from the cold of last night. The golden light shone on the mountain path that had abruptly become steep and bizarre. The first rays of the sun rose, illuminating the sea of ​​people with a faint red glow, celebrating the survival through the calamity with a golden splendor.

     Chu Wanning looked at the rising sun and twisted a talisman with his fingertips as a golden light flashed.

     “Ascending Dragon—come!”

     With a long roar, the paper candle dragon broke through the heavy snow, its large body coiled and its voice like a loud bell.

     The little dragon raised its eyes and saw that the mortal world was still alright. It was delighted and couldn’t help but start joking with its master again. “Are the winds and seas calm now?”

     “Mm.”

     “Is the fight over?”

     “Mm.”

     The paper dragon was even happier. It soared in the air for a long time before landing with a feeling of satisfaction. Then, just like every time it saw him, it jokingly said, “By the way, Chu Wanning, why are you always alone?"

     Chu Wanning stood quietly in the wind, snowflakes falling on his long eyelashes. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Mo Ran said to him when they parted, and his heart was beating like a drum. After a long silence, he looked up and said to the paper dragon lying against the light, “Take me to a place.”

     “Where?”

     Chu Wanning climbed onto the dragon’s back as it rose up to face the snow and wind, looking at the white landscape. The rising sun was magnificent as it became brighter and brighter. As dawn finally arrived, he said to the giant dragon, “Let’s go to Nanping Mountain. I want to see him.”

     The azure dragon wanted to talk nonsense for a while, but in the end, its whiskers curled and it said nothing more.

     In fact, it also knew very well where its master wanted to go back to and who he wanted to find. It let out a deep, sonorous roar of a sea dragon, and before it soared into the sky, Chu Wanning looked back at the magnificent mountains and rivers.

     The sky was limitless, filled with floating clouds. He followed the golden light from the misty Kunlun path and finally headed for the distant rivers and lakes where the rain had just begun to fall.

     Mo Ran promised him that he would come back.

     So he believed in him and went to meet in the place where they had last parted.

     “Say... could those golden lights be his returning soul?”

     The candle dragon swept through the sea of clouds and hummed, “If you ask me, who should I ask?”

     “Do you think those souls will return to his body?”

     The candle dragon said reluctantly, “Maybe…”

     Soon, they arrived at Nanping Mountain. Without hesitation or doubt, Chu Wanning seemed to be certain of where those rays of golden-red light would go. He rode the candle dragon and landed outside of the bamboo forest in the depths of Nanping Mountain.

     “The person you’re looking for is here?”

     Chu Wanning didn’t reply. When he got down from the dragon's body, he felt as if a heavy stone was pressing on his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe.

     “I kept Mo Ran's body here before." His fingers trembled involuntarily. "So if his soul can return, then…”

     He originally wanted to say that it would definitely be here, but when the words came to his lips, he didn't say any more.

     What if it wasn’t here?

     He still wanted to give himself hope, so he didn't want to say anything final.

     The paper candle dragon was a little reluctant and shook its head. "What if he doesn't come back?"

     “...”

     “What if the golden lights scatter before they reach this place?”

     “...”

     “What if—”

     Chu Wanning suddenly turned around, his eyes fierce but red. "Then I’ll burn you and bury you with him.”

     “Aiya, I’m so scared.”

     The candle dragon turned into a golden light, and its massive body turned into a small dragon that perched on Chu Wanning’s shoulder. It bumped its head against its master’s cheek.

     It knew Chu Wanning’s personality, so it naturally wouldn’t take the threat of burning it seriously. It sighed. “Looking at your expression, I feel like you want to be buried with him.”

     With that, it brushed the back of Chu Wanning’s neck with the tip of its tail.

     “What are you doing?”

     “I’m afraid if I don’t scratch you, you’ll faint.” The little dragon sighed and slapped its tail. “You look awful.”

     “...”

     “It's like a gambler with his life savings walking into a gambling house for his last bet.”

     Chu Wanning, in a rare instance, didn’t refute it and only closed his eyes.

     The little candle dragon said it was his life savings, but that wasn’t actually true.

     It was his disciple of two lifetimes, his lover of two lifetimes, and the fool who, in two lifetimes, was willing to sacrifice his flesh and blood and fall into the quagmire to fulfill his noble and pure-hearted purpose.

     It was the rest of his life.

     The mountain path was long, and the snow was crisp.

     There was a thatched cottage in the distance that had long been in disrepair. Chu Wanning stood in front of the cottage, his fingertips trembling. In front of him was clearly just a small, dilapidated courtyard door, but it seemed heavier and more difficult to reach than the doors to the demon realm. His adam's apple moved and his blood churned.

     He was as stiff as a piece of wood. He raised his hand several times, but it dropped the moment it touched the door.

     Little dragon: “Aiya, if you don’t push the door, then I’ll do it. I—”

     The door opened.

     It wasn’t Chu Wanning who pushed it open, nor was it the little candle dragon.

     The door was ajar to begin with; perhaps the breeze had pity for the separated person and couldn’t bear his sorrow, so it blew open the thin wooden door with a creak.

     Chu Wanning stood outside the cottage.

     The entire open space of the dilapidated cottage was in full view. At this time, the trees hadn’t yet sprouted, and the branches were covered in a thin layer of snow. When the wind blew, the snowflakes floated like haitangs and scattered into the morning light.

     Then they fell on a man’s shoulders.

     Hearing the sound, that person’s figure paused for a moment, then slowly turned around.

     The lights and shadows moved together, and in that instant, it seemed as if the earth had returned to spring and the dazzling light of summer.

     The sound of the wind, the sound of falling snow, and the rustling of leaves that Chu Wanning couldn’t hear before all returned to his ears at this moment. Everything in the world surged back into his heart like a tide.

     He stood still and wanted to run forward, but his limbs and bones seemed to be filled with lead, and he couldn't move a single step. At this moment, Chu Wanning seemed to hear the chirping cicadas under Heaven-Piercing Tower all those years ago.

     Those were the best years of Mo Ran’s life.

     The handsome youth walked toward Yuheng Elder, who had been leaning against the tree, toward the beginning of everything, toward the beginning of the intertwined fates of the two.

     “Chu Wanning…”

     The little candle dragon poked him on the waist.

     Only then did Chu Wanning finally come back to his senses, but his throat was still blocked, and he couldn't say a word.

     He slowly walked toward the man standing under the dormant tree, toward the destination of everything, toward the end of the pain of two lives, toward the settling of dust.

     The wind blew through the forest leaves, causing them to rustle. It seemed as if Chu Wanning had walked through endless fire and smoke of war before finally standing in front of the man.

     It was just like many years ago, when the youthful Mo Weiyu stood in front of the young and handsome Chu Wanning.

     He lifted his head and smiled.

     “Xianjun, xianjun.”

      The voice from the past still rang in his ears, but when they met again, two lifetimes had passed.

      “I’ve been looking at you for a long time. Why won’t you pay attention to me?”

      The valley was quiet and serene, the light of the sun pure and clear. It was as if there was nothing but the two of them in the mortal world. Mo Ran was wearing his outer robe. His face was still a little pale, as if he’d just recovered from a serious illness.

     He watched Chu Wanning walk out of the morning glow and stand in front of him, his dark eyes gradually revealing an expression that couldn’t be more gentle.

     “Shizun…”

     The wind stopped, and rays of morning light scattered through the gaps in the clouds, illuminating the bloodstained world.

     "I met a demon. And I had an interesting experience I want to tell you about..."

     The prior turmoil of doomsday had passed.

     After many years, in the place where blood spilled today—

     Maybe some new plum blossoms would bloom.