You kid! You don't have to be so low-key! !

The scene in the gray stone shard continued, and Changqing had forgotten the pain in his knee, dragging a long trail of blood through the darkness.

While traveling to provide medicine, Changqing was caught in a downpour. In a thatched hut, a scholar surnamed Lin received him. The young man was studying diligently, his eyes filled with anticipation for the future, brimming with energy. He told Changqing about his story with a courtesan, a place where they had made a promise. The story was beautiful and touching, but the scholar failed to notice the hidden sorrow in Changqing's eyes. Before coming here, he had passed through that small town, which had become an underwater palace for fish. The surviving woman had fallen seriously ill and could not be saved; she ultimately did not live to see her beloved Lin again.

……

During the heavy snowfall, amidst the thick snowdrifts, the two siblings huddled together. The older sister, who had painstakingly begged for food, gave it to her younger brother. She then watched him eat, leaning on her hand, before falling asleep without closing her eyes. The smile on her lips remained fixed on her face, a smile that seemed to indicate that her brother might have hope of survival. Perhaps it was a sense of satisfaction that kept them together until dawn. When the pharmacist arrived and left, one of them was missing, and three sticks of incense remained amidst the thick snowdrifts.

These suffering people watched each other pass away little by little, yet they were powerless to stop it. Did they ever complain about Changqing's lateness?

Kneeling carefully along the dark road beneath my feet, I gently picked up these regrets. The light around me turned a stark white, desolate. The rescued were weeping for the deceased. There were too many regrets, and the road was too long.

He didn't know how much time had passed, or how much he had collected, but the coldness in his heart remained unmelted; he could no longer turn a blind eye.

Regret has an end, and the road has come to a close.

Darkness revealed its true nature; the black tangled threads emitted a rainbow of light, and within the light, darkness resembled countless withered grasses, moving away.

He stood up, and the horrific wounds on his knees, where the skin had been torn open, were healing at a speed visible to the naked eye. Blood flowed back into his body, and he touched his chest, finding it cool. His eyes became even more determined.

A dazzling five-colored light shone brightly before him. After a long while, he slowly opened his eyes. There was no darkness before him. The oppressive feeling instantly dissipated, and he felt light as a feather.

Looking up, a gentle breeze ruffled his disheveled temples, and five-colored light shone brightly, catching his eye. His pupils contracted sharply as a five-colored divine tree rose from the ground, towering into the sky with an unparalleled and proud posture! Its trunk was thick and strong, like an ancient giant pillar, and its gnarled branches coiled like mad dragons, baring their fangs and claws as if a demon were about to pierce the sky.

Its branches and leaves spread out like a giant canopy, layer upon layer, as dazzling and colorful as glass. The leaves are like ethereal fairy feathers, red as burning flames, as dark as ice, as green as amber, as blue as starlight, and as golden as gilded ornaments. They tremble gently in the breeze, as if performing a mysterious fairy dance, or as if welcoming visitors.

It stands quietly on the flat grassland, its divine aura restrained, its imposing presence undiminished, its extraordinary stature impossible to conceal, overlooking the myriad phenomena of the world, revealing its magnificence and wonder.

The darkness was afraid and dared not overstep its bounds.

Beneath the sacred tree, a busy figure in white was brewing tea, seemingly preparing in advance as if aware of a guest's arrival.

With fair skin, a slender figure, and an elegant demeanor, one could still see oneself, only that, compared to one's own dark skin, the person opposite seemed to be the friend of those outside the thatched hut.

"Tired?"

The figure approached, offering a cup that could hardly be called a teacup. For a moment, I was distracted, unsure if it was the aroma of tea or the person's scent, but it smelled wonderful—a fresh, herbal fragrance. It was soothing…

The two sat on the grass under the tree, looking at the starry sky above, enjoying a moment of peace.

"Where I came from, skyscrapers stood tall, airplanes soared into the sky, and iron fish swam in the sea—a peaceful place. This world seems extremely strange to me. I don't like this world, so I've always felt like an outsider..." The man in white held his tea, took a big gulp, and let out a hearty groan, rather rough but very cheerful. He tilted his head and looked at the dark-skinned man in blue beside him: "As a 'native' experiencing this world, what do you think?"

"Hiss—ha~~~~" The man in green robes also took a big gulp of scalding tea, just like the man in white robes. The coldness in his chest eased a little: "Are ordinary people really without a way to survive? I want to help, but the immortals are high above, while the people are suffering. The world is truly biased!"

The man in the green robe turned his head: "I want to borrow a spark of thought from you to unravel this mystery."

The man in white seemed to know what the other was thinking. He sighed softly, but then nodded and said, "The paths are different, so the results will naturally be different. But they still have hope. Technology has not yet sprouted, and the beings of this world still have a long way to go. When even an ant can raise a sword to the sky, harmony will naturally arise. There will be no shortage of outstanding people, let alone pioneers."

“But they will lack a catalyst, even just a tiny spark of enlightenment, and we can do that,” the man in the green robe murmured.

"I understand, you need to give them hope."

"Hope! Yes!! As long as there is hope, the Way will not perish. It will extend into everyone's mind, no matter how long it takes, that is the Way that belongs to them."

"Hope lies with them, and hope lies with us, isn't it~~" The man in white didn't refuse; his warm smile was like a gentle breeze.

As soon as he finished speaking, a sudden gust of wind arose, blowing countless sequins. He instinctively closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, the white figure beside him had vanished. The colorful sequins, like butterflies, swirled around the man in blue, continuously covering his body and adorning him with splendor. The man in blue closed his eyes again, and when he opened them again, the thatched hut was already brightly lit.

Beside the bed, Han Zijin was boiling water. As if sensing something, he met a pair of multicolored eyes in the steam. The man who sat up from the bed stared at Han Zijin for a long time before softly saying, "You've grown up. You're not a little boy anymore."

His skin was still dark, but his expression was somewhat complicated.

"Uncle Changqing, I told you, you're a very good immortal, you'll definitely come back~" Before she finished speaking, her voice changed, becoming high-pitched and a bit hoarse: "You brat, you've finally woken up. When are we going to keep our promise?"

"There's no rush, there's still some time. By the way, if I really find someone for you, senior, are you really willing to part with Zijin?"

"..." The demon seed fell silent for a moment. What Changqing said was true. According to his temperament, Han Zijin was an excellent person to possess. He was really reluctant to leave.

Seeing this, Changqing shifted his gaze: "Zijin has no spiritual root, but I imagine you have no shortage of body cultivation methods, enough for Zijin to cultivate. However, as a survivor from that year, you know some of the secrets of that time. Those bastards from back then are still around, and shouldn't we ask the opinions of those involved..."

Changqing didn't finish speaking, his tone rather stiff, suggesting that the demon seed was aware of the implications and that the choice still rested with Zijin.

He got out of bed and stretched, his bones cracking as if reborn. Blood began to flow through his veins, and his acupoints were cleansed and regained their shimmering light. The power that surged forth was abundant and solid, making his body feel as hot as a furnace, bursting with heat. The sprain on his ankle healed instantly.

A cool sensation surged upwards from the abdomen, frolicking through the meridians, bridging the body with inspiration from heaven and earth. The senses began to awaken, and the honest and simple temperament of the person suddenly changed, like the winter sun, representing boundless vitality.