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

The old woman was used to seeing these elegantly dressed aristocratic ladies and generally did not wish to speak much with someone as coarse as herself.


  She saw that the girl would not take the broken silver, and turned around tremblingly, prepared to go back to her work.


  At that moment, along with the sound of the wind and snow outside the window, the girl's clear and pleasant voice leisurely arose, "When I was a child, my mother would admonish me, the prosaic rice and porridge should remind us their acquisition is not easy, every thread and every strand should remind us of the hard work behind them."


  Her mother taught her few things, so she remembered each one very clearly.


  The old woman chuckled softly and said nothing.


  Soon, Baili An returned through the wind and snow.


  He shook off the snowflakes from the Glazed Umbrella, sat down, and placed the breakfast snacks he had bought one by one on the table.


Chapter 227: Dead Chef