At this moment.
Inside Tianyuan Camp, outside Xiyang Palace.
A gentle breeze brushed past, carrying a hint of chill, as though foretelling the coming storm.
Huan Jingyuan stood here, weighed down by worries, pacing for half the day. The bluestone slabs beneath his feet gave faint creaks from being trodden on.
His brows were tightly furrowed, anxiety and unease showing in his eyes. At last, he gritted his teeth, looked up at the towering Xiyang Palace, and murmured, "Xiaoran, I have something to discuss. Is it convenient...?"
Before he could finish, the gates of Xiyang Palace gently opened, releasing a long creak.
Weisheng Moran walked out from within. Bathed in the evening sunlight, her figure appeared especially aloof and cool. She stood in the wind, her long gauze dress swaying like a lotus rocking in the breeze—ethereal as an immortal, cold as snow.
Her gaze was calm as water, yet carried an unfathomable depth.
"Say it directly." Weisheng Moran paused, her voice cool and resolute. "I know you want to talk about the barrier."
Huan Jingyuan had not expected her to be so direct, and for a moment, he was caught off guard. He froze, then lowered his head, his brows knotting even tighter. After thinking for a while, he finally sighed helplessly. "Indeed, it's about the barrier. Things are rather troublesome now. That trace you left behind... I truly can't erase it."
Weisheng Moran lightly raised her eyes, her gaze icy. "It was never meant for you to erase. It's normal that you can't erase it. Not to mention three years—even a hundred years would be the same."
"Uh..." Huan Jingyuan was momentarily speechless, his thoughts becoming even more tangled. The words he had prepared no longer seemed to have a place to begin.
Weisheng Moran's gaze remained calm,