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

A glimmer of light ignited within his heart, guiding him through the anguish.


Even dense bamboo couldn't stop the flow of water, nor could lofty mountains hinder the flight of clouds.


In both favorable and adverse conditions, he navigated with ease; such was the path he chose to tread.


People often say that moths fly into flames to their own demise.


He was never a greedy man. Even if he were that moth, yearning for warmth and light, he could enjoy that momentary warmth if he circled the flame, weary to the extreme.


Thus, he would cherish this opportunity bestowed upon him by the heavens.


The remaining pain dissipated, and the fractured Corpse Pearl was fully restored, now silently embedded within the Yin Yang Tao Fish.


Baili An also realized that during today's cultivation, he had broken through to the Second Grade Kaiyuan realm, and the settled Corpse Pearl seemed somewhat different.


Chapter 142: Moths to the Flame, Not Necessarily Doomed