Ling Luo used her last bit of strength to push away Qin Yuan’s hand, her face showing disgust.
The words “Heavenly Dao,” she despised the most.
These eyes she would never forget even in death—the high and mighty Heavenly Dao that watched over all living beings, the Heavenly Dao she had once perished with—now pathetically inhabiting the body of a small human.
Ling Luo gave a scornful laugh, her voice faint due to her injuries, filled with mockery: “I knew it was your doing. What, can’t accept defeat? You, the Heavenly Dao, actually fear death, so you came up with this trick to make me reborn into the past during our final battle.”
“You want me to kill you again?”
Qin Yuan looked at her silently for a while, then sighed again. She placed her hand over Ling Luo’s wound, emanating a pearly white healing light.
She said, “I’m too heartbroken.”
Ling Luo angrily retorted, “I’m the one stabbed by a sword, why are you heartbroken! Get away!”
“On the day of our battle, too many people died.” Qin Yuan spoke with pity in her eyes. “You were wrong to oppose me from the beginning. Did you think that killing me would make the world change into what you wanted?”
Ling Luo: “Now I know it won’t change, but I still can’t let you live. You say I was wrong, but why don’t you look at what you’ve done?”
Qin Yuan: “That was the choice of the people.”
Ling Luo: “It was the choice you gave them! Good people die, evil people live—this is the way you set for them!”
Those eyes gazed at her gently, and Qin Yuan said, “Life and death have no distinction between good and evil. I cannot bear to see you obsessively fall into demonic cultivation for this, nor can I bear to see that person die for you. That’s why I chose to restart.”
“Only this was my choice.”
Ling Luo frowned: “Who died?”
Qin Yuan reached out and touched her collarbone. Ling Luo wanted to stop her but had no strength, so she could only glare.
“Don’t worry, when I chose to restart, I gave up the option to kill you. You may die, but it absolutely won’t be by my hand.” Qin Yuan said unhurriedly, “This is the Suffering Flower that preserves soul memories on the path of karma.”
That crimson, double-petaled flower was sent into Ling Luo’s body, leaving a mark on her snow-white collarbone.
One of the petals was already burning away, disappearing.
“Ling Luo, with this new life, don’t you want to make changes?”
Ling Luo said expressionlessly: “No.”
Qin Yuan said: “There are many things you should know but weren’t told. Perhaps after knowing them, you might change your mind.”
Ling Luo felt a burning pain in her collarbone. She frowned, but her vision began to blur, and meaningless fragmented images flashed before her eyes.
A vista of black flames that seemed to burn a hole even in the sky.
The night before Ling Luo’s final battle with the Heavenly Dao, she went to the mountain to set up prohibitory arrays, returning very late.
It was the height of spring, and Mount Tianzhao was in full bloom, with cherry and crabapple blossoms each occupying half the sky.
Yue Liangze had spent the morning tending to the flowers in the mountain courtyard.
The spirit demons wanted to help, but they were clumsy and broke several pots. After being seen by the man, they all bristled, huddling behind stone lanterns pretending they hadn’t done anything.
Yue Liangze didn’t scold them. With a calm expression, he came over to clean up and replant the flower stalks, tirelessly.
He cut a few beautifully blooming crabapple branches and placed them in vases in Ling Luo’s room, both by the window and on the desk.
Ling Luo had left in a hurry this morning, leaving her bed in disarray, which he also tidied up.
The spirit demons peered in through the window, watching silently.
This man could go anywhere in Mount Tianzhao and do whatever he wanted; the mistress never restricted him.
Beside the main courtyard was a smaller one, with grape trellises, a vegetable garden, and a stone platform with flowing water—identical to the courtyard where he had lived in Tianji in those years.
After midday, Yue Liangze went to the stone platform to wash his hands, then gathered ingredients, and began preparing dinner. Because there was much to prepare, he started early.
The spirit demons loved this part the most, passing messages to each other, and chattering as they rushed from all directions.
The bolder ones, those more familiar with Yue Liangze, called out: “Lord Dao, Lord Dao, shall we call the mistress for you this time?”
“Mistress went to the small hilltop to set up prohibitory arrays; she probably won’t be back anytime soon.”
Yue Liangze said: “If she’s busy, don’t disturb her.”
He meticulously prepared dinner by himself and placed it on the table.
The sky had completely darkened, and the mountain was filled with the view of the Milky Way.
Yue Liangze made some sweet treats for the spirit demons. The little black balls happily carried away the pot and left, no longer disturbing him.
The dining table was under a flowering tree, which bordered a pond.
Yue Liangze pondered what to plant in the pond, but in the end, he went back to get a bamboo pole for night fishing.
It was just a way to pass the time while waiting for someone to return.
Yue Liangze sat quietly in the bamboo chair by the pond when his Flying Cloud Talisman suddenly sounded, startling him.
He took it out and saw that the transmission request was from his Third Senior Brother, Bai Cang.
At first, Yue Liangze didn’t answer, but when Bai Cang sent another request, he finally picked up.
As soon as he connected, he heard Bai Cang complaining: “You’re having so much fun over there that you’ve forgotten home, even ignoring my transmissions.”
“Senior Brother,” he said, lowering his gaze to the clear water surface.