Immortal Dao is dead, I am the mastermind behind it all.

Ten years later, on a hill outside a remote small town.

Since that trip to Dongshan City, Luo Changting's cultivation of the Five Elements has been increasing rapidly.

Those around him, whether he wants to control their life or death, or even their thoughts, are all within Luo Changting's control.

The night wind howled, rustling the sparse, withered grass on the hill and also fluttering Luo Changting's clothes.

He stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the scattered lights of the small town below the mountain. His face appeared even more gaunt and stern in the dim moonlight.

Ten years have passed, and the demonic seed has become increasingly entangled with him. While that power has given him great strength, it has also been silently eroding everything about him.

"This strength is far from enough to contend with the True Lord."

"I have to make a choice: stay here, or go to the battlefield to hone my skills..."

Suddenly, Luo Changting recalled a vague memory of that day, and found it hard to believe.

"Yes, the one who slaughtered a million lives in Dongshan City that day was me..."

What he found unbelievable was not the power itself, but the fact that after killing so many people, he felt no remorse whatsoever.

"If I leave, I must sever all ties with them and not let my affairs affect them..." Luo Changting pondered, then suddenly fell silent.

Suddenly, a young girl appeared behind him.

Luo Hanchan had blossomed into a graceful young woman; her old clothes, though patched, were washed clean.

The childlike innocence of his childhood had faded from his brow, replaced by a calm demeanor and an inescapable air of worry.

She stood quietly half a step behind her brother.

Silence spread between the two, with only the howling of the wind.

"Xiao Chan, aren't you going to go on stage?"

After a long silence, Luo Changting spoke in a low voice, which seemed to drift in the wind.

Luo Hanchan has taken over the important task of the opera troupe and will step onto the stage tonight to begin her theatrical career.

"What are you doing?"

"Look at the sky."

The girl looked up at the sky, her eyes reflecting the countless stars.

"What's in the sky?"

"Brother, do you know the story of the Nine Heavens and the Nine Abyss?"

Upon hearing this, Luo Changting paused almost imperceptibly, without turning around.

"Tonight is my first time performing on stage. While preparing, I unexpectedly came across a play related to the ancient mountains and seas."

"As the play says, people have a final resting place. After good people die, their souls can ascend to the heavens and become stars, shining brightly, watching over the human world, free from worries and pain." Luo Hanchan paused, her voice even lower.

"As for bad people... bad people who do evil will go to the Nine Abyss, the deepest and darkest underground, where there is molten iron and ghosts that pull out tongues. They will suffer endless torment and will never be able to come out!"

She knew her brother's secret cultivation behind everyone's back; she had known it since they were children.

When Luo Changting practiced his skills in secret, his whole body felt warm, as if he were basking in the sun.

But now, the aura emanating from Luo Changting made her instinctively feel cold and suffocated, as if she were sinking into the deepest, darkest quagmire.

All of this terrified Luo Hanchan; she was afraid of losing her good brother.

"What nonsense."

"Drama is all a lie, don't get too caught up in it."

Luo Changting chuckled, his tone as gentle as it had been ten years ago.

The concept of "Nine Heavens and Nine Abysses" has long ceased to exist since the Immortal Lord of the Three Lives Forgetful River opened the Bridge of Helplessness.

That's true. It's normal that my sister and father, who have little contact with the cultivation world, don't know these things.

In a daze, Luo Changting recalled that a long time ago, he seemed to have glimpsed a few words in some tattered fragment of a storybook, something like "Zhi".

It seems to say that the trajectories of the stars in the sky record the fate of all living beings.

As for becoming a star?

He twitched the corner of his mouth.

According to Luo Hanchan, if his filthy, foul-smelling body and sinful soul were to ultimately transform into something, it would certainly not be a cold, clear star in the heavens.

It's probably the embers from the very bottom of the Nine Abyss.

But so what?

He felt the broken sword within his dantian growing stronger and stronger, dragging him ever closer to the abyss.

Even embers have their own warmth.

At least, before it's completely extinguished, it can still burn that demon who toyed with the lives of ordinary people.

"True Lord of the Wild Goose Formation..." Luo Changting murmured to himself, clenching his fists.

Just as Luo Changting frowned, Luo Hanchan spoke:

"But the heavens are too high, and the abyss is too deep. Even if I were to become a star and hang in the sky, it would not be what I desire."

"It must be very cold in the sky that high up."

Luo Hanchan stretched out her hand towards the starry sky above her head and lowered her eyes.

"I just want a place," Luo Hanchan said slowly.

"A place where Dad can live out his retirement in peace, a place where we... no longer have to live in fear and wander around, a place where we can look up at the sky, even if it's a place without stars."

No matter how much Luo Hui tried to hide it, the brother and sister understood.

Although they were said to be a traveling opera troupe, they were actually fleeing from disaster, heading towards a pure land where there was no fighting among cultivators.

The demon race invaded, cultivators fought each other, and everywhere mountains collapsed and the earth cracked, and there was no peace.

As for going to Kongsang County, a large city guarded by cultivators, how could ordinary people like them possibly be qualified?

Luo Changting remained silent, a flash of crimson passing through his eyes.

"I see."

Luo Changting has made his decision.

He turned around, his expression complex, and pointed lightly at Luo Hanchan.

Knowledge and Meaning: Life is but a Dream

"Little Cicada, sweet dreams."

As night falls, the town lights up, and the mountain wind howls, as if weeping and lamenting.

…………

Tonight is the last performance of the Luo family troupe in this area; they will depart tomorrow.

Following the "arranged" route, we headed towards the supposedly peaceful and prosperous prefecture. It was the safest place in the entire Langya Prefecture, and it was even guarded by cultivators.

The troupe leader, Luo Hui, was slightly drunk. He slapped his thigh and boasted to his old friends about the good times in the prefecture, but his eyes were somewhat vacant, as if those visions of the future were heard from someone else.

The members of the opera troupe were all relaxed, as if their anxiety had been soothed. They busily prepared their luggage, and only occasionally when they looked at each other would a trace of bewilderment, which they themselves did not notice, flash across their eyes.

It's as if they've forgotten someone.

Luo Hanchan sat in front of the simple dressing mirror backstage, looking at her reflection in the bronze mirror, her heroic eyebrows and eyes outlined with oil paint, and a velvet flower tucked into her hair.

Her hands were steady as she traced the shape of her eyebrows, but her fingertips were icy cold.

She knew that her father's and uncles' memories had been altered.

Somehow, only she remembered.

Her fingernails dug into her palms, the stinging pain allowing her to maintain a calm facade.

She couldn't expose him, and she couldn't cry or make a scene.

Her brother used a method she didn't know to erase other people's memories of him and gave them a hopeful and safe future in Langya Prefecture.

He himself must have more important things to do.

As a good younger sister, Luo Hanchan should not disturb her brother.

"Han Chan! Are you ready? The 'Farewell at the Long Pavilion' performance is about to begin!" came the urging voice from outside the curtain.

"Farewell at the Long Pavilion" is often used to express the occasion.

A lively and joyous farewell performance, wishing you a bright future and smooth sailing.

"I'm here," she replied, her voice steady.

After taking one last look at the familiar yet unfamiliar reflection in the mirror, I stood up, lifted the curtain, and stepped into the side of the room.

The drums and gongs had already sounded on stage, and many people and merchants who were about to leave their homes were sitting below. At this moment, they also needed this false jubilation to ease their sorrow of parting.

Luo Hanchan made her entrance, stepping to the beat of the drums.

Wearing a red cloak and a pheasant feather crown, he carries a short stick that symbolizes a riding whip.

This is the scholar in the play who is about to embark on a long journey to seek fame and fortune.

She walked to the edge of the stage, struck a pose, her eyebrows raised, and gave a slight bow to the audience before beginning to sing:

"I bid farewell to my parents and elders, and to my fellow villagers!"

"From this journey, the sky is high and the sea is wide; a man's ambition lies in all directions!"

"Don't worry, the swallows and sparrows are warmly circling the eaves..."

"Behold me, as I spread my wings like a roc soaring into the azure clouds!"

Her singing voice is high-pitched and bright, and her movements are graceful and agile.

She cracked her whip and galloped around the stage, as if she were truly riding a fine horse, leaving the pavilion, full of vigor and spirit.

The audience erupted in cheers.

"The evening breeze caresses the willows, the flute's melody fades, the setting sun shines beyond the mountains..."

She continued singing, her water sleeves fluttering lightly, her eyes glancing casually towards the audience, trying to find that slender yet resolute figure.

The gongs and drums beat faster, and the string and wind instruments played louder.

As the play came to an end, according to the script, the scholar should have ridden away on horseback, and everyone should have sung a blessing together, bringing the play to a joyous close.

The drums and gongs beat rapidly, awaiting the final curtain call.

Luo Hanchan took another step forward, leaving her original position and walking alone to the very front of the stage.

She gazed into the distance, into the deep night, as if a person stood there on the horizon.

She sang her final blessing in a completely different melody, her voice clear and bright, transforming it into a broken prayer:

May your journey be smooth.

The entire hall fell silent for a moment.

Immediately, even more enthusiastic cheers and applause erupted!

The audience felt that this young girl sang with such genuine emotion and effort on her first stage performance, and that she was destined for great success in the future.

The curtains slowly closed amidst the cheers.

The music ended, and the crowd dispersed.

Luo Hanchan stood still, waving, her smile gradually crumbling in the shadows cast by the falling curtain.

The backstage area was bustling with noise as everyone surrounded the troupe leader, Luo Hui, excitedly discussing tomorrow's itinerary and the bright future ahead after heading to the prefectural capital.

"Higurashi sang it beautifully! Especially the last line!"

"Truly worthy of being the last remaining heir of the Luo family!"

Luo Hui, slightly tipsy, walked over, laughing loudly as he patted her shoulder: "We're going to the prefectural capital tomorrow! The best is yet to come!"

"Yes, Father, the better days are yet to come."

She looked at her father in the mirror and tried to smile.

After Luo Hui left, only Luo Hanchan was reflected in the mirror.

She raised her hand and, little by little, extremely slowly, began to remove the pearl hairpin from her head.

Her fingertips were icy cold, just like her heart.

Suddenly, Luo Hanchan, who was taking something out of the drawer, froze at the sensation of a mixture of cold and warm sensations on her fingertips.

By the light of the cool moonlight, she could see what was in her hand.

One is an amber-colored sugar figurine shaped like a family of three, and the other is a warm sweet potato with its skin carefully wiped clean.

The world fell completely silent at that moment.

"Brother...please come back soon..."

The paint that hadn't been wiped off his face was now blurred by tears.

…………

That night, a thousand miles away, on the border of Langya Prefecture, the Ten Thousand Mountains were shrouded in blood and fire.

A figure shrouded in faint demonic energy walked alone, facing a crimson waning moon.

The wind howled, carrying with it the sounds of distant battles and the long howls of demonic beasts.

The man, dressed in a black robe that fluttered in the wind, had faint dark red patterns flowing around his body and wore a blue-green mask at his waist.

The Candlelight Sword vanished into the eternal night.

Luo Changting did not turn around.