North Liao

In the Kunlun Snow Palace, a sage once said, those who pass away wander, while the living cannot let go. 
Once the soul departs, it will wither like the autumn grass. 
Those who are reborn from the dead, existing apart from the mortal realm, shall be shunned by all celestial sects and smitten as undead demons. 
On this day, a youth awakens from within a coffin, his blood dry and his bones chilled, to find himself a century old upon opening his eyes. 
A single tear from a sage awaited, a constant companion, may unravel the dreams of the past. 
Seeking not immortality but a mundane death, not to lament with the ages over lost love and resentment, but only wishing to grow old with tenderness in this lifetime, beneath the white clouds that hold no envy for the heavenly realms.

Journey to the End of the Night

Jin Sheng was taken aback by these words.


His right hand had long since lost the right to wield a sword, yet this seemingly redundant question carried implicit concern.


He was somewhat surprised, having assumed that after dispatching Meng Zifei, this little corpse demon would start preparing to dispatch him as well.


He had waited for half a day, never expecting to hear such a statement.


Jin Sheng had always been someone who couldn't hold back his thoughts and immediately asked bluntly, "You're not driving me away?"


Baili An slightly raised his eyelids, his brows lifting slightly as he chuckled, "You're someone who owes me their life several times over. Wouldn't I be at a loss if you just walked away without a word?"


A twitch twitched at the corner of Jin Sheng's mouth. He had seen others act from a position of obligation, but never had he seen someone so unabashedly leveraging a debt of gratitude toward the Thirteenth Sword of Tianxi.


Chapter 102: The Fragrance of Flowers Has Faded, The Past Has Gone